


Under Your Stars

by CaliBDiamond



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Comfort, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Force Bond (Star Wars), Master & Padawan Relationship(s), Mutual Pining, Pining, Qui-Gon Jinn Lives, Slow Burn, Slow Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:21:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 138,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23866684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaliBDiamond/pseuds/CaliBDiamond
Summary: Obi-Wan Kenobi and Quinlan Vos have been dispatched to Ragoon VI to find Mace Windu's Padawan, Iza Tacor, who has gone missing during a wilderness training excursion.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 54





	1. Abandonment

“Wilderness training? They still do that?” Quinlan asked as he walked beside Obi-Wan, a faint smirk lifting the corner of his lips. “I would have thought they’d put an end to that after—”

“Have you heard nothing I’ve said?” Obi-Wan cast a frustrated look up at his companion and frowned.

“I heard you, Obi.” Giving a dismissive wave of his hand, the taller of the two shrugged carelessly. “Windu’s Padawan is missing. You want me to come with you to help find her. I don’t know why you don’t just ask Master Qui-Gon to help.”

“Qui-Gon is busy with his own Padawan,” sliding his arms beneath the sleeves of his robes, Obi-Wan tried not to look anything but concerned for the task at hand. “Besides, you have a skill that Master Qui-Gon does not.”

“Ah— _there_ it is.” A wide grin split the other man’s lips. “You don’t even want my company.”

“Quin, my old friend,” stopping in his tracks, Obi-Wan turned to look up at the other man in exasperation. “This is a serious matter. Master Windu asked me _personally_ to find the girl because I know the area. I’m asking _you_ because you possess the innate ability to find someone when they’ve been gone for _years_. Your company is also appreciated.”

Quinlan studied the other Jedi for a moment, a tiny smile present on his lips. After a moment or two, he shrugged a broad shoulder and grunted, turning to continue down the hall.

“Who sends a Padawan to Ragoon VI on her own?” Tutting playfully, he shot Obi-Wan a look. “Master Windu is losing his touch.”

“I believe it was at her request.” Walking swiftly to catch up, Obi-Wan went to his belt for the datapad he’d been given. Scrolling through the text, he frowned. “It does not say why. Just her last known whereabouts based on the last communication we received.”

“And when was that?”

“Well over a month ago.”

Quinlan laughed and gave a slow shake of his head.

“I suppose if I were Master Windu’s Padawan I would _conveniently_ go missing, too.”

“You’re not still sore about—”

“Because _you’re_ not sore about him never even _allowing_ your Vaapad lessons?” Shooting his friend a look, Quinlan brought his arms up to fold them behind his head. “Have you got a picture?”

“Er, yes,” tapping the screen, Obi-Wan brought up a holo-image of the girl in question. Young, sweet and starry eyed. Beside him, Quinlan whistled. It was hard to tell whether he was impressed or suddenly wishing he’d never taken Obi-Wan’s call.

“I know that face,” giving a snort, he dropped his arms at his sides and followed Obi-Wan in the direction of the hangar as they exited the Temple. “That’s the little Tacor girl that used to follow you around everywhere. She’s Master Windu’s Padawan?”

“She did not… follow me.” Obi-Wan didn’t like the way he’d said that. It made him feel strange. Shaking it off, he shut the datapad down and tucked it away. “She was chosen a little after you left.”

“He must see potential in her, then.”

“She’s quite talented.” Obi-Wan nodded, turning his hand up as he led Quinlan to the starship he’d been loaned. “I’m not sure what she needed wilderness training for. Master Windu has never taken a Padawan to Ragoon VI before, according to Qui-Gon.”

“What the hell did Qui-Gon take _us_ for?” Laughing, Quinlan dropped carelessly into one of the seats once they’d gotten into the starship, watching as Obi-Wan came over to start fussing with panels and switches. His expression firmed into something a bit more serious after a moment or so and he shook his head. “It was careless of Windu to allow her to go alone.”

“I agree.” Finally settling into his seat to get the starship in motion, Obi-Wan didn’t bother looking over at his friend. “That place is dangerous enough in a group. Allowing a single girl to venture out there on her own? Perhaps he _has_ started to lose his touch.”

“Does she still tail after you, Obi?” Quinlan asked, a brow going up on his forehead. A grin followed when Obi-Wan’s head jerked in his direction. “Don’t look at me like that. It’s just a question.”

“She was a _child_ , Quin.” Fixing the other man with an impatient look, Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. “She simply wanted companionship. She did not get on well with her agemates.”

“But she got on well with _you_.”

“As a _mentor_.” Shaking his head, Obi-Wan blew out a breath. “Honestly, Quin. I worry for you with the things that run through your head sometimes.”

“Because everyone and their droid didn’t have those same thoughts whenever they saw me out with Aayla? _My own Padawan_ , I might add.”

“Padawan Tacor is not much younger than Aayla,”

“I bet that’s it,” waving a finger, Quinlan grinned. “She was hoping you would choose her.”

“What?” Giving the other man a look, Obi-Wan frowned. “That wouldn’t have been possible, Quin. I wasn’t allowed—”

“She wanted _you_ to be her Master and she got stuck with Windu instead.” Quinlan wore the expression of a man who’d just discovered an untouched vault filled to the brim with credits. “Come on now, Obi. What other reason would she have to sit and listen to the boring drivel you used to read to her?”

“They were _stories_.” Obi-Wan didn’t know why he felt the need to continue defending himself like this. He knew good and well that Padawan Tacor’s childish admiration had been innocent. She had asked him to help her with things like her lightsaber stance and where to find the best history novels in the library. There had never been any sign of anything _odd_. He supposed he could see where Quinlan might be right in believing that perhaps the girl had wished for him to take her on as his Padawan, but Master Qui-Gon had deemed him to be unready for such a task. Even now, after having been a knight for nearly five years, he had not taken a Padawan. He simply did not feel enough of a connection with any of the younglings, although Qui-Gon insisted that this did not _have_ to be the deciding factor. Obi-Wan felt that if he were going to mentor someone, he wanted to be able to do so at the same level his Master had done with him. So far, there had not been a single candidate that fit.

“Do you think she’s run off?” Quinlan’s voice shook him from his thoughts and had him looking over with his brows knit together in light confusion. This drew a snicker from his friend. “The Padawan. Do you think that she’s left the Temple on purpose?”

“What reason would she have to do that?”

“It can’t be easy being Windu’s apprentice,” humming, Quinlan pursed his lips in thought and gazed up at the ceiling of the starship. “I remember him being quite strict.”

“Everyone was strict in your eyes.”

“Master Qui-Gon was a bit lenient.”

“Master Qui-Gon was not _your_ master.” Making a face, Obi-Wan leaned back in his seat and rubbed a finger against his upper lip. He still wasn’t sure how he felt about the facial hair he’d allowed to grow in over the last year or so, but he’d grown tired of shaving and he’d found that he liked that it made him appear more _adult_ than his bare face. “I cannot think of any reason Padawan Tacor would have to leave. She is always in high spirits when I see her.”

Quinlan said nothing. He simply folded his hands across his abdomen and cast a glance over in his friend’s direction. _Oblivious_ , this man was. Perhaps it was better that way.

“Has she had any personal conflictions?” He asked, finally. “Assuming you would know such information.”

“None that come to mind. I believe she was reprimanded some months back for behaving aggressively towards another Padawan, but I’m unsure of the details.”

This piqued Quinlan’s interest. Sitting up, he rested his chin atop his fingers and looked at the other man expectantly.

“You must know _something?_ ”

“I’m afraid not.” Obi-Wan turned his hands up and glanced to the console in front of him. After a moment, his lips twitched in a light frown. “She threw a flower pot. Again—I’m not sure why.”

“A _flower pot?_ ” The Kiffar chuckled deeply in amusement. “I’m not sure that counts as a _personal confliction_ , but that is quite the outburst for a girl I remember being very… _meek_.”

“She was never meek, Quin. Just quiet.”

“You know a lot for someone who claims he was nothing more than a mentor.”

“Just what are you suggesting?”

“Nothing.” Quinlan put his hands up in a surrendering gesture. “I would never suggest nor accuse you of anything, my old friend.”

“Listen,” Obi-Wan was becoming irritated, something that often happened when Quinlan Vos was around. “My relationship with Iza Tacor has always been and always will be nothing more than facilitatory.”

“You and your big words.” Shaking his head with a snort, the other man rolled his eyes. “Just say _educational_. I’m not sure who you’re trying to impress when it’s just _us_ in here.”

Obi-Wan felt his cheeks color and turned away, once again focusing his attention on the control panel in front of him. He pretended to study the screen in the center of the console and jerked when Quinlan gave a solid pat to his shoulder.

“Relax, Obi. Focus your energy on finding this girl. That is what is important right now.”

“Right.” He sighed, settling back in the seat. He knew he needed to clear his mind and maintain his focus on finding the Padawan. Dwelling on Quinlan’s incessant taunting would do him no good. Still, he couldn’t keep away the gnawing thought at the back of his head that made him wonder if perhaps the Tacor girl’s attention towards him had been motivated by something other than his guidance.

~*~*~*~

“Any luck?” Obi-Wan asked when he met up with Quinlan at the starship. The two had been scouting a village near the last known transmission signal for over three hours now and he’d come up empty. As the taller man approached, he hoped he had more information than he’d gotten.

“Nothing of use,” rolling his eyes, Quinlan propped himself against the side of the ship and snorted. “They all say the same thing. _Jedi girl lost to the mountain_.”

“Quin,” Obi-Wan could have smacked him. “That is rather _ominous_.”

“Do you see a mountain?” Waving around at the thicket of trees and fauna that surrounded them, Quinlan made a face. “We passed over the closest mountain range over fifty miles back. Do you really think a young girl could walk that far?”

“She had a ship, Quin.”

“We did not detect a ship when we came in. Even if she had lost power, the tracker would still be active.”

“Take me to the last person who told you this,” Obi-Wan folded his arms over his chest and frowned deeply. “Perhaps they’ll give me more information.”

“Are you insinuating that I was impolite, Obi? Because I was _nice_.” Pushing away from the starship, Quinlan made a face and grumbled under his breath as he turned to start down the path he’d taken. Shaking his head, he blew a thick loc out of his eyes and barely spared the other man a glance when he strolled up alongside him. “I’m telling you, none of these people know anything.”

“It cannot hurt to ask again.”

“It can when they get pissed off and kick us out.”

“Have faith—and perhaps a bit of patience,” making a face, Obi-Wan craned his neck to try and peer into the village as they approached. When Quinlan pointed to a young looking man standing near one of the mud huts, he held his hand up for his friend to wait while he talked to the local, walking up with a friendly smile on his face. “Hello. I apologize, but—”

“I tell your friend,” the man pointed behind Obi-Wan and shook his head. “Jedi girl lost to the mountain.”

“Ah—yes,” letting out a weak laugh, Obi-Wan produced his datapad and brought up the picture of Padawan Tacor. “This girl? Was it this girl?”

The villager looked irritated as he nodded.

“Can you tell me _which_ mountain?”

The man turned and gestured behind him at the wall of trees. Confused, Obi-Wan shook his head and opened his mouth to say something when the villager interrupted.

“Inside.” He insisted, pointing. “Follow the water.”

“How long ago?”

The man shrugged and shook his head. Clearly, he didn’t know—or he just didn’t care to tell him.

“Thank you. Thank you very much.” Bowing, Obi-Wan turned and practically ran back up the path towards Quinlan. “Get the packs.”

“Did he say where she went?” Following after the other man, Quinlan glanced back over his shoulder for a brief moment.

“Apparently this _is_ a mountain, Quin.” Exasperated, Obi-Wan ran up the loading ramp into the starship to gather the travel packs of water and rations. “He said to follow the water.”

“Oh, that’s great.”

“You’re welcome to stay behind in the starship.” Slinging his pack over his shoulder, the shorter man shrugged and patted himself down to make sure he had his lightsaber and anything else he might need.

“You brought me for a reason, Obi.” Quinlan reminded him, making a face as he picked up the other pack. “I’m the one that can track her, remember?”

“Funny how you couldn’t do that from the village.”

“Hey—it doesn’t work like that.” Scowling, the Kiffar looked like he might shove his friend if he said something else he didn’t like. “I have to have something to work with. You know that. _Jedi girl lost to the mountain_ doesn’t mean bantha dung to me.”

Obi-Wan supposed the man had a point, but there really was no time for him to say so. If they were going to venture into the woods—into the mountain?—before the sun set, they needed to move _now_. Climbing down the ramp, he waited for Quinlan to follow before closing it and heading in the direction the villager had pointed him in. Neither man said anything as they walked aside from letting one another know where the soil was loose so they wouldn’t sink in or fall. He felt a small sense of relief when they’d finally reached the edge of a river that flowed calmly through the area and he turned to his companion with hopeful eyes.

“I’ll see what I can do,” creeping closer to the water, Quinlan eyeballed it for a moment and then knelt to place his palm against the soil, closing his eyes to focus. Taking a deep breath, he reached into the Force and searched for leftover signs that the Padawan had been here. It took a moment before he caught just the tiniest hint of a trail; it was old, faint. But she had definitely been here and she’d gone in the direction that the water flowed. Straightening, he shook the dirt from his hand and jerked his head for Obi-Wan to follow him. “This way.”

Obi-Wan was almost too eager to follow. He wanted to find this girl alive, if only so he wouldn’t have to present her master with a corpse. It always pained him when he learned that a young Padawan or Jedi knight had gone to the Force before they had a chance to know their true potential. The trek along the river slowly became more perilous, curving along the side of a cliff at one point and he nearly made himself sick at the idea that perhaps the Padawan had fallen off the edge. But Quinlan continued along the bank like he was being led by an invisible rope. He seemed to know where he was going. The Force most certainly was guiding him. It had to be. Obi-Wan had to trust that his friend’s abilities would not fail them. They had never failed them in the past.

Deeper and deeper they walked into the woods, tromping through the river at one point when the trees grew too thick on the edge of the bank for them to walk. When they finally came to an open area, Quinlan stopped and surveyed their surroundings in silence, dark eyes focusing on the mouth of a cave just on the other side of the riverbank.

“There,” he said, gesturing.

Obi-Wan was quick to cross the water, hating the way his feet squished around in his boots but almost too focused on getting inside of that cave to care. He’d barely gotten onto the edge of the bank when he noticed the strong smell of something _rotting_ nearby. His stomach dropped out from beneath him, then rolled hard. Were they too late? Looking into the dark mouth of the cave, he almost didn’t want to venture inside. Perhaps he ought to send Quinlan inside. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to stomach it if he found that poor girl’s body in a state of decomposition.

“Master Kenobi?”

His stomach clenched again and he picked his head up, turning this way and that until he spotted her. Just off to his left, standing in half her robes with a confused look on her young face. Vivid green eyes stared at him curiously, almost as though she wasn’t sure he was really there. After a moment, a soft smile broke out onto her lips and she rushed across the tangle of greenery that separated them, stopping just in front of him. She was barefoot, he realized, and her clothes were torn but she seemed unharmed and reasonably well kempt. She continued staring at him with that look of awe before she reached out and gave his arm a light brush, snatching her hand back and letting out a soft rush of breath.

“What are you… how did you…?” Her gaze shifted to something behind him and her features changed. “Master Vos?”

“Quin,” he corrected with a low chuckle.

“Master Kenobi,” again, that gentle look crossed her face and she looked him over, laughing. “You’re a mess.”

“Are you all right?” Obi-Wan was finally able to unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth and quell the rolling of his stomach. “Are you hurt?”

Padawan Tacor’s face flushed scarlet and she slowly shook her head, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

“No sir,” fidgeting with the sash that hung low on her hips, she gave a sheepish sort of smile. “I’m quite well, thank you. Would the two of you… my camp is on the other side of the cave.”

“We’re actually here to retrieve you, little one,” Quinlan smiled, shifting his gaze between the two as discreetly as possible.

“That’s not necessary.” She shook her head and gestured behind her. “I’m still—”

“Your master insists.”

“I do not see my master,” a hard look crossed the girl’s features before she dropped her gaze again and chewed her tongue behind her lips. “I apologize for causing any inconvenience, but I will not be leaving with you.”

“Iza,” Obi-Wan reached out and set his hand on her shoulder, watching her look up at him slowly. For a moment, he just held her gaze, and then he smiled and spoke, “Quin and I would be happy to join you at your camp. It will be dark soon, after all. I do not believe we will make it back to the starship without getting lost.”

She nodded and returned his smile, turning to lead the way through the brush. When she was far enough away, Quinlan let out a low whistle and rubbed the back of his neck.

“That is _not_ how I remember that girl,” he mumbled, shaking his head. “When did she fill out like—”

“ _Quinlan_.” Obi-Wan snapped, shooting him a dark look. The other man put his hands up. He would say nothing more. Giving a soft huff, Obi-Wan moved to follow after the brunette, making a face at the way he slid around inside of his sopping wet boots. He was going to have to take them off. Once on the other side of the brush, he found himself on the edge of a small, almost beach-like area. The river ran in a sharp curve against a sandy bank that led up into a second cave. Parked outside was a fire-pit that had yet to be lit for the evening. From where he stood, Obi-Wan could see a makeshift bed just inside the mouth of the cave, as well as a rucksack. Padawan Tacor’s lightsaber hung from a strap while two training staffs and her boots were propped neatly beside it. The rest of her robes appeared to be drying on large rocks nearby and she’d hung a power-cell lantern from one of the lower-hanging tree limbs.

“I was just about to get the fire started when I heard you splashing around,” she explained, gesturing to the pile of kindling set inside the pit. “I don’t have much to offer in the way of refreshments, I’m afraid. Dinner was going to be fish.”

“Do you need food?” Coming further into the camp, Obi-Wan slid his pack from his shoulder and knelt to open it. “We have plenty of meal bars and water.”

“That’s very kind of you, Master Kenobi, but I have to decline.”

“It’s wilderness training, little one. You’re allowed supplies.” Quinlan made himself comfortable near the mouth of the cave, setting his pack down beside him.

“Is that what he told you?” Kneeling in front of the fire, the brunette began to work to get it lit. She wouldn’t look at either man, even after she’d produced enough of a flame for it to burn unattended. “ _Wilderness training?_ ”

Obi-Wan and Quinlan exchanged a look.

“I apologize Padawan Tacor, but I’m confused,” Obi-Wan watched as she got to her feet and went into the cave for a pot and a bottle of water, even more curious when she produced a small linen sack of some sort of leaves. “If not wilderness training, then what are you out here for?”

“Perhaps you ought to ask Master Windu.” Pouring the water into the pot, she added the leaves and came back over to settle it on a corner of the fire that wasn’t burning quite so high. “I don’t have the kind of tea you prefer, but hopefully this will do.”

“That’s not necessary, my dear,” he paused, then offered a small smile. “But I appreciate it.”

“Does this have anything to do with your flower pot incident, little one?” Quinlan tilted his head and watched the way the girl’s head whipped in his direction. She stared at him for a long time before turning to look at Obi-Wan, and then stared back down at the fire without a word. Nodding slowly, the Kiffar clucked his tongue. “A punishment, then?”

“He believes me to be too aggressive,” the brunette spoke softly and used the handle of the pot to swirl its contents. “I was sent out here to learn true mindfulness through solitude.”

“Hasn’t worked, has it?” He quirked a brow, a smile lifting the corner of his lips.

“ _Quinlan_.”

“It’s lonely here,” the girl let out a soft sigh, lifting the pot from the fire to carry it back into the cave to strain the contents into the bowls she had. There were not enough mugs; these would have to do. “It is very frustrating to have no one to speak to but yourself.”

“You have been out here for three months, Padawan Tacor,” Obi-Wan accepted the bowl of dark tea she handed him, giving the contents a cautious sniff out of habit. “Surely Master Windu has been to visit at least once?”

“This can be quite bitter,” she warned Quinlan when she handed him his bowl. “I apologize if it is not to your taste.”

“This is fine, thank you.” He would accept it. It seemed rude not to.

“ _Iza_.”

“Master Kenobi,” shutting her eyes, she took a deep breath and waved her hands. “I am not sure what my master has told you, but **_he_** sent me here. He has not been to see me. I lost my communication disc last month and I no longer have goods to trade with the villagers to use theirs. I have my lightsaber and my training staffs and that is it. My cookware and my clothes are all the necessities I own. For all I know, I have been exiled. For throwing a silly flower pot in defense of myself.”

“Your master would not give such a severe punishment for a single incident, Padawan Tacor,” Obi-Wan took a sip of the tea and almost spit it back out. It was, indeed, _very_ bitter. It made him want to smack his lips to get rid of the strange dryness it left on his tongue, but he did his best to refrain. From the corner of his eye, he could see Quinlan doing his best to choke the liquid down out of respect as well. Whatever this was, he hoped it wasn’t toxic.

“Because it was not a single incident,” sitting down hard in the sand, the Padawan propped her chin in her palm and frowned. “There have been many incidents. Some small, others not so small. I suppose he grew tired of making me _read_ to settle my mind.”

Again, Obi-Wan and Quinlan exchanged a look.

“He has taken away my Vaapad lessons because of this. He insists that I learn Soresu instead.” She appeared to pout for a moment before sobering and quickly adding, “It is a very beautiful form, don’t get me wrong. I just don’t believe I have the focus for it.”

“I’m sure Obi could teach you,” Quinlan piped, setting aside his empty bowl. He’d discreetly tossed what was left of the contents into the brush behind him when no one was looking, although he’d made sure to actually drink some of it as well. “He’s a far more patient teacher than Master Windu.”

Padawan Tacor shifted her palm to cover her mouth in an effort to hide the smile that began to spread across her face, keeping her eyes pointed on the sand. Grateful that the setting sun would provide _some_ cover for the way her cheeks had begun to turn pink yet again, she gave a slow nod of her head and almost refused to look in Obi-Wan’s direction.

“He is very patient,” green eyes lifted to meet his for a half second before darting away. “But I would not want to trouble you, Master Kenobi.”

“It would be no trouble,” he shook his head, eyeing her and the strange expression on her face. She seemed to become so flustered at the oddest of moments. It made him wonder even more about the things that Quinlan had brought up earlier, but now was not the time to explore that. “If it would help you, then I would gladly teach you the form.”

“Are you not to be choosing your own Padawan soon?”

“I suppose I am,” he scrunched his face lightly in thought. “But I have yet to find a pupil. Until I do, I can train you.”

The girl gazed at him in silence for a long while, appearing to contemplate something before drawing in a deep breath and letting it out in an equally deep sigh.

“I will trade you for Vaapad lessons.”

Obi-Wan stared at her, brows going up high on his head.

“I assure you, Padawan Tacor, that is not—”

“You once told me you admired the form but had not been permitted to have lessons. I have not learned enough to master the form, but I know enough to show you how to channel your aggressions into your movements.” Shrugging lightly, she smiled. “It is a fair trade, Master Kenobi.”

“Take the offer, Obi,” Quinlan chuckled from behind the two.

“ _Quin_.” Shooting a hard look in his friend’s direction, Obi-Wan shook his head. “Must you continue to cut in?”

“When I know you’re about to pass up on something you’ve wanted for years?” The Kiffar turned his hand up and grinned. “Yeah.”

“I cannot have her showing me these things at the Temple,”

“So don’t take her back yet.” Quinlan shrugged like it was the most obvious answer to the situation. “We can send word to Windu that she’s fine and provide proof. You can say you’re staying behind to teach her Soresu. It will work out.”

“And if Windu insists that she returns?”

“Then he can kriffing come out and get her himself.”

“ _Master Vos_ ,” Padawan Tacor covered her mouth to smother the laugh that bubbled in her throat at his use of the swear word. It wasn’t as though she’d never heard a Jedi curse before; she’d just never expected it out of someone who associated themselves with Master Kenobi.

“I told you, little one— _it’s Quin_.”

Obi-Wan looked conflicted. On the one hand, it would be much easier to teach the girl his lightsaber form without distractions. He supposed it would be easier for her to teach him what she knew of Vaapad as well without worrying whether or not someone was going to get upset about it. It would also do him some good to be away from the Temple for a while; it’d been so long since he’d last gone away for an extended period of time and he felt like he needed a bit of a breather. Of course, he had a feeling that Quinlan would likely stick around as well—which might not be a terrible thing. His friend could very well help to keep Padawan Tacor in high spirits and even teach her a thing or two, if he was willing. On the other hand—he had responsibilities to tend to at the Temple that he was sure he’d be disciplined for neglecting. And the Padawan had brought up the point of him needing to choose an apprentice of his own; it was important that he do that soon. Perhaps, maybe, he could put it off _just_ a little longer.

“Master Kenobi?”

Pulled from his thoughts by that soft, curious tone of hers, the older Jedi found the brunette waiting patiently for his answer. Finding himself looking her over—for what reason, he wasn’t sure—he gave a light nod of his head and an easy smile.

“We will need supplies from the village,” he said, peering into the cave. “I am perfectly content to live this way, but I would like something other than sand to sleep on.”

“You may take my bed if you like.”

“That is absolutely unnecessary, my dear,” he put his hands up and laughed, casting an almost affectionate look at her. The girl really was far too generous. “Do you know if the villagers take credits?”

“They seem to only barter in trade goods.” Shrugging, the Padawan sighed heavily and then gestured at his pack. “They may take some of the rations in exchange for the bedding, but that would leave you without food.”

“There is more on the starship.”

“You could also trade the starship parts.” She smiled wide and turned her hands up. “I was made to slowly trade my pod in pieces for things I needed. Master Windu insisted. I do wonder if he intended to leave me stranded here.”

“We will not be trading the starship parts.” Obi-Wan tried not to appear as horrified as he felt. He suddenly wondered if perhaps Master Qui-Gon knew anything about this. While his master did not hold a seat on the Council, he was still close to Master Windu and would have at least _some_ idea of what had become of the man’s Padawan. “I may see if they will take credits. If not, then we will just have to see what they _will_ take.”

“Now that that’s settled,” Quinlan got to his feet with a low grunt and brushed the sand from his backside. “You mentioned _fish_ for dinner?”

“ _Oh!_ ” Scrambling to get to her feet, Padawan Tacor rushed to the deepest curve of the river bend and knelt over it, brushing her braid back behind her ear. Putting one hand beneath the water, she closed her eyes and leaned forward like she was searching for something. Neither man said anything as they watched, curious. Suddenly, she surged under the water for a moment, coming back up holding the tail of a fish nearly half the size of her. Spitting water, she stood and fought against the wriggling animal, looking over at the two. “Lightsaber?”

Quinlan got to her first, putting the gasping fish out of its misery with a quick swipe of the bright green plasma blade. Thanking him quietly, the brunette took the fish into the cave and set it down on a piece of tarpaulin so she could start cleaning it. She could feel the eyes of the two men on her back as she worked and after she’d gotten most of the innards out, she glanced over her shoulder.

“You’ve never used the Force to catch dinner before?”

“Not anything that big.” Obi-Wan gestured. “Not by hand.”

“I try not to take the big ones very often,” shrugging she turned back to her work. “But this is easier than trying to catch several small ones for guests.”

“Is this the cause of the smell on the other side?” Quinlan asked, nodding towards the pile of viscera.

“I have nowhere else to put it. I bury it as deep as I can, but it has been so dreadfully humid during the day lately that it doesn’t seem to matter.” Finishing up, she turned back to Quinlan again and held the cleaned fish up. “Would you mind rinsing this out while I discard this junk? Master Kenobi—would you please make sure the fire is hot enough?”

Both men nodded, Quinlan stepping forward to take the fish while Obi-Wan moved to prod the fire with a lightly charred stick sitting nearby. They watched as the girl gathered the mess in the tarpaulin and carried it off before looking at each other and giving identical grunts of laughter.

“Not afraid to get her hands dirty. Girl after my own heart.” Quinlan snickered, watching Obi-Wan’s face carefully.

“Yes, well,” the other man didn’t seem to know how to respond to that.

“It’s a joke, Obi.”

“ _I know that_.”

“She seems like a decent enough kid,” kneeling at the water’s edge to rinse the blood from the fish, Quinlan hummed in thought and frowned lightly. “If there’s an aggressive bone in her body, I’d like to see it.”

“You should not say such things, Quin,”

“I would still like to know why she threw the flower pot.” Glancing at the other man, the Kiffar watched Obi-Wan scowl at him from the corner of his eye. “She said it was in defense of herself. That is not something that should be punished.”

“Perhaps if she were your Padawan that would be your call to make,” stirring the coals, Obi-Wan wasn’t sure if he needed to throw more kindling onto the fire or not. “You said yourself that Master Windu is very strict.”

“I just think it’s silly to isolate your Padawan on a planet like this and not check on her and say it’s for her own good.”

“I do not disagree, my friend. But Master Windu made this call for a reason.”

“It was a stupid call to make,” Quinlan wasn’t sure what to do with the fish now. He’d only been instructed to rinse it out. “A month, I can understand. But _three?_ Telling her to trade in pieces of her only means of leaving the planet for supplies? Obi—it sounds very much like he intended to—”

“She still wears her braid,” Obi-Wan said pointedly, sitting back on his heels. “She has not been expelled.”

“Perhaps he has abandoned her?”

“We would know.”

“We didn’t even know this wasn’t a wilderness training exercise,” working his jaw, Quinlan glanced off in the direction Padawan Tacor had gone to make sure she wasn’t returning yet. After a minute, he kicked the heel of Obi-Wan’s boot. “You should take her.”

“ _What?_ ” Staring up at his friend, Obi-Wan blinked wildly. “Are you out of your mind?”

“Think about it, Obi. Windu told her she needed to learn _Soresu_. He picked _you_ to go on this mission to find her. He knows she listens to you without question.” Laughing, the taller man turned his free hand up. “Seems logical to me that he wants you to take over for him.”

“There was something in that tea,” Obi-Wan wagged his finger and shook his head. “You’ve had some sort of reaction.”

“Who is having a reaction to the tea?” Padawan Tacor’s voice startled both men horribly and Quinlan nearly dropped the fish he held into the sand. The two stared at her for a long moment before the Kiffar cleared his throat and stepped forward, holding the fish out to her with a faint smile.

“He’s joking. The tea was fine.”

Taking it, the brunette looked between them warily and went about getting it set up to roast it over the fire. A tense sort of silence fell over the camp while she worked, the only sounds coming from the soft rush of the river and the nighttime critters in the woods surrounding them. Once the fish had been placed over the flames and Padawan Tacor was sure that it wouldn’t fall into the coals, she turned to the two and tucked her hands behind her back.

“You are very loud when you speak,” her green eyes shifted from one man to the other. “Master Quin, you especially.”

Quinlan smiled sheepishly and tried hard not to look as guilty as he felt. He opened his mouth to apologize, but the girl was not finished.

“Someone said something very crude to me. Accused me of doing something I’ve never even _thought_ of.” She wasn’t looking at either of them anymore and had started fidgeting again. It was hard to tell in the limited light of the camp, but her face looked extremely flushed. “They tried convincing others that I’d done this… _act_. I was embarrassed and I acted out of impulse. I’m not sure if Master Windu sent me away for the flower pot or if he believed the thing that was said of me.”

“May I ask—”

“I’d rather not repeat it, if it’s all the same to you.” She ducked her chin and pulled her shoulders up, absolutely refusing to look anywhere near the two. “It’s extremely vulgar.”

“Does it have to do with—”

“ _Quinlan_ ,” Obi-Wan’s tone cut him off like a vibroblade, the look in his eye just as sharp and dangerous. Shaking his head at the other man, he shifted his gaze back to the Padawan and let his features soften. “I’m terribly sorry for that, my dear.”

“Master Quin is probably right. My master has likely abandoned me.”

“I do not believe that to be true. Master Windu would not believe such childish talk.”

“I’ve told you that the flower pot was not the only incident, Master Kenobi,” finally, she managed to look at him, if only for a few moments. “He has grown tired of my aggression.”

“You are as docile as a domestic cat,” Quinlan threw a hand out. “I feel no aggression from you.”

“As you shouldn’t. You have been nothing but kind to me. Why should I show aggression towards you, Master Quin?”

“Can you give another example, then? Another moment when you were aggressive enough to make your master send you away?”

The brunette huffed out a breath and shut her eyes, pressing her lips together tightly as she hesitated.

“Iza, you do not have to answer that.” Obi-Wan interjected, getting to his feet. “Quinlan, you _must_ stop interrogating her this way.”

“I broke the arm of a sparring partner.” Turning away under the guise of rotating the fish over the fire, the brunette stared into the flames so she wouldn’t have to look at either of the men behind her. “They were already yielding and I guess I got too rough. I don’t know if it was an accident or not. I have also been reprimanded for using inappropriate Force abilities.”

“ _Inappropriate?_ ” Quinlan squinted.

“Abilities my master considers too dark for me to use.” A slim shoulder rolled up in a careless shrug. “Crushing training droids with the Force, for example. He really hates it when I do that. He believes I am setting myself up for more dangerous things.”

Neither of the older Jedi spoke for a long moment, casting quick glances between one another before setting their eyes on Padawan Tacor’s back once more.

“Is there something else, Padawan?” Quinlan asked, his voice low.

“This should be done in another twenty minutes.” The girl straightened and kept her back to them as she moved around the camp, turning the lantern on and checking on the robes she had laid out. They weren’t dry yet; she left them where they were. Gathering the bowls they’d used for tea, she went to the edge of the river to rinse them and kept her gaze pointed anywhere but in their direction.

“Iza?” Obi-Wan took note of the way she seemed to tense at the sound of her name and he wondered if she would even answer him. Watching her stand and shake the water from the bowls, he was startled when she turned and faced him with tears glossing the surface of her eyes.

“He believes I harbor some kind of secret attachment. No matter how hard I insist that it isn’t true, he argues that there is _something_ pulling me to behave the way that I do.” The bubble of tears grew larger, but she refused to let it break as she stacked the bowls inside of each other and moved to head into the cave. “I have never had friends inside of that Temple. None I would ever have considered close enough to form the sort of attachment he accuses me of having.”

“He believes you to be in love.” Quinlan murmured.

The wooden bowls made a hollow clatter when they hit the stone floor of the cave. The girl seemed frozen to the spot, tense with shock. She appeared to hold her breath for a solid thirty seconds before she finally sucked in a deep lungful of air and reached a trembling hand towards one of her training staffs.

“Twenty minutes.” Her voice had lost all emotion as she knelt to pick the bowls up and set them in their proper place, rising to her full height once more to walk swiftly out of the cave. “Please help yourselves to as much as you like. I must go meditate.”

“Padawan Tacor—”

“Remember to turn it every five minutes, Master Kenobi,” she held her hand up to block her face from view, heading down the bank of the river. “Take care to not let it burn.”

Obi-Wan started to follow her when Quinlan laid a restraining palm against his chest, shaking his head. His eyes were focused on the girl’s back as she disappeared into the brush and after a moment, he dropped his arm back to his side and swore quietly.

“You must let her go, Obi. This is a lesson for her.”

“A _lesson?_ ” Obi-Wan scoffed and gave his friend an incredulous look. “You believe that making the girl _cry_ is a lesson?”

“She must learn to release her unnecessary emotions, my friend. You and I are not strangers to this lesson, Obi.”

“Are you sure _you_ do not wish to take her as your Padawan?” Narrowing his eyes, Obi-Wan shook his head and turned to head over to the fire and check the fish. Rotating it, he sat down in the sand and ran his fingers through his hair, trying very hard not to swear out loud. He felt terrible for having upset the girl so much—for allowing Quinlan to continue his damn interrogating when he’d known it wouldn’t end well. He’d felt her growing more and more uneasy the longer the conversation went on; he should have put an end to it. His own damn curiosity had gotten the better of him and now that poor girl was off _meditating_ —likely crying—because she’d been pushed too far.

“She will be all right, Obi. These are things she needs to face.” Coming over to sit beside his friend, Quinlan cast a thoughtful look up at the ever-darkening sky with a hum. “Perhaps this is the reason we are here.”

“What are you babbling about?” Shifting an irritated gaze to the other man, Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow.

“Since you so strongly believe Master Windu did not simply _abandon_ her here, perhaps the isolation was meant to make her reflect on her actions.” Rubbing his chin, the Kiffar glanced at Obi-Wan. “He sent _you_ to check her progress and to encourage her to continue her lessons. It is very easy to slip out of the Jedi mindset when one is on their own for so long, after all.”

“And what is _your_ role in all of this?”

Quinlan flashed a slow, secret smile.

“That remains to be seen, my friend. For now, I’ll think of myself as a simple _instigator_.”

“You’re certainly doing your job.” Rotating the fish again, Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. “I do hope she returns soon. She did not take her lightsaber and these woods are very dark.”

“I think she can handle herself. You worry too much, Obi.” Getting up with a grunt, Quinlan went to the cave to retrieve the bowls, pausing to root around in the rucksack for extra tableware of some sort. Snorting when he found none, he pursed his lips. “Bad news for you. There is only a spoon and a knife here.”

“Surely you jest?”

“Nope,” holding them up for the other man to see, Quinlan grinned at the exasperated look he got in response. “You may take the spoon, if it suits you.”

“Have you ever eaten fish with a spoon?” The idea of it was so barbaric, perhaps only slightly less so than using one’s _hands_. “How does she manage like this?”

“I see Temple living has made you even more of a prude than you already were.” Snorting, he brought the bowls and tableware over to the fireside, handing one bowl and the spoon to Obi-Wan.

“It is not _prudish_ to prefer to use tableware, Quin.”

“What was it Master Qui-Gon used to say?” Pursing his lips in mock thought, Quinlan tapped the hilt of the knife against his chin. “Oh—right. Our hands are our strongest connection to the Force. They are our best, most reliable tools. Do not take them for granted.”

“I do not believe he was referring to eating with our hands when he said that.”

“In any case,” reaching across the other man’s line of sight to rotate the fish, Quinlan shot him a look. “It will not kill you to do it. We have done much worse things for the sake of survival, Obi.”

His friend had a point and he knew it. Getting worked up over having to use his fingers or improper tableware paled in comparison to a lot of the things he’d done during his years as a Padawan. Hell, it didn’t even compare to some of the things he’d had to do in the years following having been knighted, even. Perhaps _Temple living_ —as Quinlan put it—had made him a bit soft.

“Where are we supposed to put this so it doesn’t burn?” Quinlan’s voice pulled him from his thoughts and Obi-Wan looked over with a slow shake of his head.

“I’m not sure. There does not appear to be—” he paused when he looked overhead to find that the brunette had fashioned some sort of hanging mechanism for the rod the fish was skewered upon. A soft gust of breath left him, something akin to an impressed chuckle. Pointing, he looked back at Quinlan. “There,”

Tilting his head back to look, Quinlan laughed outright.

“Are we sure she’s been out here alone?” Pulling himself to his feet, he lifted the fish from the fire—cussing when he burned himself—and hung it up on the makeshift rack to let it cool for a few moments. “She knows quite a lot for someone who has no one to guide her.”

“She was a very avid reader.” Shrugging a shoulder, Obi-Wan got up to gather a few water bottles from his pack. “It would not surprise me if she studied the entire collection of survival handbooks.”

“She should be _your_ Padawan, Obi,” Quinlan’s tone had changed from playful to something more serious and it made Obi-Wan twist to look back at him. The Kiffar stood looking at him with an expression just as serious, dark eyes shimmering with the firelight. “She struggles because Windu does not understand her. He sends her away as punishment because he does not know how to handle the things inside of her. He has never had to learn the lessons she must learn to become a Jedi. She needs a master who can guide her through these things with care, not unnecessary discipline.”

“Quin—”

“If you do not take her, she will be lost. She is too old to be taken by anyone else at the Temple and you _know_ what happens to abandoned Padawans who cannot find a master to take them in.”

“We do not even know if she _has_ been abandoned, Quinlan.” Obi-Wan thinned his lips and strained to listen for sounds that the girl might be returning. Her Force signature felt as though it was where it’d been when he’d last checked, but that did not mean she couldn’t hear them. “You make assumptions based upon your sour feelings towards Master Windu.”

“As a man who has taken a Padawan of his own,” that serious look grew sterner, like Quinlan was _daring_ Obi-Wan to go against what he had to say now. “I would see it as a failure on _my_ part to abandon Aayla and announce it to the Council. Master Windu has his head stuck so far up Master Yoda’s ass that he would _never_ admit to it. He’d just send her out here for _wilderness training_ and then pass her around until it was time for her Trials and take the credit. My personal feelings aside, I know how impatient he is with any pupil who so much as breathes in the direction of the Dark Side. Search _your_ feelings, my friend. You’ll find that my **assumptions** hold a fair amount of truth.”

He was right. Obi-Wan knew it. He _hated_ that he knew it, too. He didn’t want to believe such a thing of the Jedi Master, but he’d spent enough time in Windu’s company to know that he did often become frustrated—perhaps not outwardly—with pupils who were anything less than balanced. It bothered him that he hadn’t noticed a change in Padawan Tacor’s disposition. She was always so gentle and kind in his presence and radiated nothing but _light_. It was a difficult thing for him to picture her behaving aggressively or to imagine that Master Windu saw things within her that he could not. They’d spent enough time together that he felt he knew her well enough, but perhaps he was mistaken. Or, perhaps, she’d kept that part of herself hidden as not to make him worry for her. What a silly thing to do; didn’t she know she could come to him for help for anything? He had never _said_ this, but he felt it had always been implied. She certainly had no problem asking for his assistance when it came to her Jedi training. Surely this counted as part of it?

“Obi?”

“I shall take her,” the whispered words came so naturally that he felt something stir in his belly. Logic told him it was simply his stomach reminding him that supper was hanging overhead, ready to be eaten. Something in the Force said that this was how it was meant to be. He was meant to be her teacher, and she his pupil. It felt _right_. She was the Padawan he’d waited for. So strange that it had taken this long to find her; perhaps she’d been there all along?

“Good,” Quinlan sounded satisfied as he reached up to start cutting servings of the fish away for both of them. “Because I do not think I have the time or patience for a second Padawan. Especially not one who is expected to learn _Soresu_.”

Thanking his friend as he was passed a bowl, Obi-Wan twiddled the spoon between his forefinger and thumb and stared out across the river, deep in thought. He pretended to listen to whatever it was Quinlan was saying, occasionally grunting in response to something and giving nods or shakes of his head. In reality, he was focusing on Padawan Tacor’s signature in the Force, following her movements as she trekked through the woods surrounding them. She seemed to stay close enough to keep him from worrying, but did not want to join them for supper. He could feel her hesitation whenever she grew close to the camp, an odd flicker of some unidentifiable emotion flaring up before she’d retreat into the trees again. Privacy. She wanted privacy.

“Quin,” Obi-Wan got to his feet to go to the water’s edge and clean his bowl and the spoon. “We should turn in for the evening.”

“What about the Padawan?” Frowning, Quinlan followed suit, giving the other Jedi a curious look. “Should we not wait for her?”

“She will return when she is ready.” Shaking the water from the bowl, Obi-Wan held his hand out to collect Quinlan’s and gestured towards where the other man had left his pack. “You have your spot already, yes?”

“I suppose,” rubbing the back of his neck, the Kiffar looked confused. “I admit that I’m not yet tired, however,”

“Meditate, then,” settling down next to where he’d dropped his pack, Obi-Wan began to remove his boots and set them closer to the fire to dry. Glancing up at the fish hanging overhead, he frowned in thought. He hoped the insects wouldn’t swarm it before the Padawan had a chance to eat. Heaving a sigh, he stretched out along the sand and set his head on the pack, gazing up at the stars.

He wasn’t sure when he fell asleep.


	2. His Hands Will Dig Up My Secrets

Obi-Wan awoke the next morning to the sound of soft female grunting. Sitting up with a stretch and a wide yawn, he rubbed at one eye and looked towards the river to find Padawan Tacor perched on a large boulder stuck in the middle that he swore hadn’t been there the day before. She had a strip of cloth tied over her eyes as she effortlessly twirled one of the training staffs around and performed a slow kata while balancing on the rounded tip of the rock. He knew better than to shout a typical ‘ _good morning_ ’ at her—lest she lose her balance and fall—and settled in to watch instead.

She moved gracefully from one position to the next, keeping the bow moving high above her head as she jumped and landed on one foot. Her other leg was thrust in front of her, perfectly straight and balanced. Breathing in slowly, she licked her lips and jumped high again, swiftly sweeping the staff beneath both legs, twisting mid-air before landing on a palm with the rest of her limbs above her. Still twirling the bow, she arched her back slowly until her toes met the stone and she flipped upright again.

Obi-Wan was impressed by the way she moved. Her motions were carefully planned and fluid, and not once did he see her wobble or slip. He wondered how much of her movement was guided by the Force—if any at all—and just how long she’d been performing exercises like this. It was not something Master Windu taught, after all. As a faint smile lifted the corner of his lips, he studied her form and jumped when she spoke to him.

“Master Kenobi. Toss me the other staff on the bank,” she breathed, bouncing up to flip in the air and land on both hands while keeping the bow moving with her feet.

“Er—okay,” Obi-Wan nodded and reached for the second staff that had been stuck deep in the sand, tossing it towards her and nearly whistling in amazement when she caught it easily in one hand. Another leap had her on her feet again, spinning both of the staffs around in a calculated manner so they wouldn’t strike each other and knock her off balance. She truly was a sight to behold with the way she twisted to move with the momentum, making it appear rather effortless.

Taking in another deep breath, the young Padawan rose up on her toes and lifted one leg out in front of her. Bending her other knee, she jumped up, tossing the staffs high above her head, and performed a swift medley of mid-air punches and kicks before returning to her post straight position upon landing. She held both hands out to catch the staffs and began to spin them in opposite directions as she lifted them over her head again. Obi-Wan watched the way she clenched her jaw in concentration and pushed off of the rock. She flipped once, throwing her arms out to the side and stilled the staffs, landing perfectly on one foot.

Padawan Tacor panted as she stood posed for a few moments and reached up to push the cloth off of her eyes. Grinning at the stunned looking Jedi, she bowed and jumped off the boulder to land on the river bank as clapping sounded from behind him; clearly Quinlan had witnessed the spectacle as well.

“Nice work.” Obi-Wan said, sounding impressed. “Where did you learn all that?”

“I had to fill my time _somehow_.” She panted, coming over to stab the staffs into the sand and take a seat near him. “That was the easy stuff. You should see some of the more complex moves I’ve learned.”

“You’re a natural with the acrobatics, little one,” Quinlan moved into the circle and held out a bottle of water to the sweating brunette. “You’d be a nightmare to have as a sparring opponent.”

“Why blindfolded, if I may ask?” Obi-Wan watched a bead of sweat as it trailed down the curve of the girl’s flushed cheek and fell from her chin.

“Helps me concentrate,” swallowing down a few mouthfuls of water, she heaved a breath and leaned back on a palm. “Master Qui-Gon said we connect better to the Force when we lose the use of our senses. It’s not really any different than closing your eyes to meditate.”

“I suppose that’s true,”

“In any case,” capping the bottle, Padawan Tacor got to her feet and moved away before lowering herself onto a flatter area of the bank. Sliding her hands behind her head, she eased into a round of sit-ups while looking nonchalant about the eyes that watched her. “I don’t use the Force when I do my morning routine. Not unless I have to.”

“ _Morning routine?_ ” Obi-Wan stared. “You do this daily?”

“I told you,” flipping over, she began a series of one-handed pushups and looked up at him. “I have to fill my time. This gives me the boost I need to start the day.”

“I like her,” Quinlan grinned, waving his finger. “How long do you go?”

“Not long. An hour?” A determined look crossed the brunette’s face and she was suddenly pushing herself up onto her palms with her legs straight in the air. Taking a deep breath, she let it out slowly as she did a few careful pushups in this position before letting her legs drop gracefully back to the sand. “This is usually where I stop. I would typically take a swim as a cooldown but— _er_ —I do not think that would be appropriate.”

“For what reason?” Obi-Wan’s question was simple and innocent, but somehow, it’d managed to cause the girl’s face to flush an even darker shade of red while she sputtered in an effort to find something to say.

“Master Kenobi,” ducking her chin, she turned her wide-eyed gaze to her feet and wiped a bit of sweat from her brow. “I… you see… I only have the one set of robes and…” she was really sputtering now, fidgeting with her hands as she seemed to squirm in place. “In an effort not to… to walk around in wet clothing… I—”

“I see.” He cut in, feeling his cheeks grow a bit warm as well. Clearing his throat, he gave a nod and smiled politely. “Very well. Would you like to sit down and discuss the plan for today?”

“Plan?”

“We must check in with the Temple and let them know you’re all right, Padawan Tacor,” Obi-Wan watched her move away from him to head into the cave where she knelt in front of the rucksack to retrieve a hair comb. A brow lifted involuntarily on his forehead as she let her hair down; he had not seen her with it down since she was a child and it fell well past her hips now. Shaking himself free of the sudden distraction of her brushing her hair out—he really needed to see if there was caf in the pack—he continued, “I was wondering if you knew a better way of getting to the village from here?”

“There’s a much easier way, yes,” nodding, she made a face as she worked the tangles out of her long hair, pointing in the direction behind her. “There is a path up that way that takes you straight up the mountainside. The river path is for the fishermen.”

“That’s the path we were told to take. _Follow the water_.” Quinlan made a face. “They also said you were _lost to the mountain_.”

“It means I’ve been exiled.” Casting a gentle sort of look in his direction, Padawan Tacor’s eyes became a little sad. “They understand very little Basic here and only when it involves trading or Jedi dealings. I arrived here with no master, so they believe me to have been cast out. I tried to explain once but it seemed pointless. They will not even use my name. I am just _Jedi girl_.”

“They’re a bit primitive,” Obi-Wan murmured, sliding his hands beneath his sleeves as he studied her. “There are some on other parts of the planet who are a bit more civilized than others.”

“In any case,” she’d started to twist the length of her hair into a tight knot again, picking up the pins from her lap to secure it against her head. “The path behind the cave will take half the time than the river path and it will take you straight into the center of the village.”

“When would you like to leave?”

“I am not going.”

Obi-Wan and Quinlan exchanged a look, but it was Quinlan who spoke this time.

“Little one, you understand that we need to provide the Council with _proof_ that you are in good health? If you wish to remain here for an extended period of time, we are more than happy to help with that. But in order to do so, you must help us.”

“You have a datapad,” she didn’t look at Obi-Wan as she gestured to him. “Surely it has enough power for an image capture?”

“I’m afraid that will not work. Your master sent us here. He is going to want to—”

“You can tell him I’ve gone to the Force, then,” setting her jaw, Padawan Tacor stared hard at the wall of the cave and curled her hands into fists in her lap. “Tell him there was nothing here but a rotting corpse. I will not go with you.”

“Quinlan,”

“Yep.” Giving a wave of his hand, the Kiffar got to his feet and began to walk off, whistling as he went. He knew when his ears were not wanted and now seemed to be a good enough time to get a decent idea of the layout of the area. He would let Obi-Wan handle the hard part of dealing with the Padawan. Once Quinlan’s whistling had faded enough to his liking, Obi-Wan moved to go and sit beside the brunette. She still refused to look at him, staring so hard at the cave wall that he was surprised a hole had not opened up in the side of it yet.

“You must come with us, Iza,” he said softly, letting his eyes trail along her form. He wondered faintly where she’d gotten the scar on her shoulder and the one on her belly. Had her skin—still damp with sweat from her workout—always held such a pleasant hint of warm sunlight trapped on its surface? He was following the shadow of her Padawan braid up to her face and nearly jumped out of his skin to find her staring back at him curiously. Those vivid eyes of hers had never changed, that was for sure. Almost peridot in color with little freckles scattered along the irises like amber colored stars. He could recall the way she’d gaze at him unblinking for _hours_ while he read books to her when she was younger. He should have known then that he was meant to be her teacher. If only he’d been allowed the chance, perhaps they would not be in this predicament.

“Why?” Her voice shook him from his daze and he found a frown waiting for him when the fog cleared from his head. “Why should I go?”

“Quin has already told you why. In addition—you must be present while we clear some things up.”

“What things?”

Ever the curious one, this girl; always asking questions and never satisfied until she got the answer she was looking for. Clearing his throat, Obi-Wan turned his hand up and straightened in his seat.

“I would like to inquire as to whether or not your master has…” how was he supposed to say this _nicely?_ “…sent you away for a reason.”

“I told you he has. I told you exactly what that reason was, Master Kenobi. He has become delusional in his old age.”

Obi-Wan had to cover his mouth to fully hide the smile that started to spread across his lips. She truly was a sweet girl, if not a bit naïve at times. He caught the way she frowned harder at him and dropped his hand with a weak laugh, looking down at his knees.

“Forgive me,” he chuckled quietly. “It’s just… the age difference between Master Windu and myself is not unlike that of you and I, give or take a few years. I shudder to think of how _old_ you think me to be.”

“You are not old,” Padawan Tacor tilted her head to look at him. “And you’re certainly nothing like him. I do not believe you would listen to the whisperings of gossipers and believe their word over mine.”

“I most certainly would not,” his amused expression became a bit grim. “I must say that I agree his apparent judgement there is out of line, even for him.”

“Master Kenobi, what reason do you have to ask him about his decision?” The girl shrugged at him and turned her hands up. “Do you believe you can change his mind and have my privileges returned to me?”

Obi-Wan hesitated. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to tell her yet. It would be cruel of him to get her hopes up and have them dashed. Rubbing thoughtfully at his upper lip, he fixed his gaze to the tops of his knees again and gave a light tilt of his head. If there was one thing he’d learned from Qui-Gon over the years, it was to put all of his trust in the Force. Right now he trusted it to guide the girl into his care. To save her the embarrassment of having her agemates at the Temple know about her master’s poor decision to abandon her; to let him help guide her the rest of the way down her path to becoming a Jedi knight. He was putting every ounce of his faith in this; he hoped it would work in his favor.

“No, I do not.” He said finally, picking his head up to look at her. When her face started to fall, he felt the strangest urge to reach out and touch her hand. He didn’t, but he wanted to. “I am going to ask him to hand you over to me for the remainder of your training.”

He could not read the look on her face, then. A muted mixture of shock and awe and perhaps something like relief settled into her features and made it damn difficult to know what she might be thinking. Even her eyes wouldn’t betray her. As she searched his face for a sign that he was jesting—perhaps playing some kind of awful joke just to get a rise out of her—he saw a flicker of _something_ in her stare that unsettled him and seemed to warm him at the same time. She opened her mouth to speak and then closed it as she swallowed thickly and gave the tiniest shake of her head.

“ _Why?_ ”

“Why not?” Obi-Wan didn’t like it when someone questioned his intentions, especially not his _good_ intentions. Surely this girl did not think he would come all this way just to _leave_ her? If the suspicions he and Quinlan had about her abandonment were true, she would be left to the service corps if someone did not take her on as their own. He felt her talents would be wasted; she had come this far and deserved to continue on into knighthood. Besides—he’d felt the confirmation from the Force the night before. _He_ was meant to take her as his pupil, even if only for a short while. He just knew it.

“You should be worrying about a youngling,” she looked confused as she stared at him. “Not… rescuing someone’s _trash_ , Master Kenobi.”

“ _Never_ ,” he held his finger up in front of her face and watched her eyes cross lightly as she tried to look at it. “ _Ever_ say anything like that again. That is a vile thing to say and to think.”

“But it is _true_ ,” the brunette’s expression became pained and she looked very much like she wished she could tear her gaze away. “You deserve better than someone’s castoff.”

“That is for _me_ to decide, Iza. Not you.”

“It is for the Council to decide, Master Kenobi.” Finally, she lowered her eyes to her hands and began pulling at a small tear in her trousers. “Do not be surprised when they decline your noble attempts to save me from my fate.”

Obi-Wan fell silent for a moment and just watched her, noting that she looked much older when she was upset like this. He couldn’t recall her age off the top of his head—eighteen, maybe? He’d just had his thirtieth birthday, so she would not be far behind. But she looked to be a woman of his own age as she sat plucking the threads free from the hole in her clothes, as though the worries of the entire universe had just crashed down upon her shoulders and aged her before his very eyes.

“What would you have me do, my dear friend?” He asked softly, watching her pick her head up. “I cannot leave you like this. It is unfair.”

“Who said that life was fair, Master Kenobi?” She gave a careless shrug of her shoulder and went back to picking. “Life has never been fair to either of us.”

“Would you rather be Quin’s Padawan?” Obi-Wan tried to keep the smile out of his voice but it was near impossible. “He is very wild, if you recall. I’m sure he could keep you on your toes better than I.”

Padawan Tacor lifted her head again and snorted quietly, giving him a funny look. Her eyes drifted off in the direction Quinlan had left in before she scoffed and pursed her lips.

“I do not think I would last as his Padawan. His eyes wander far too much. He may come to regret wishing to see my aggressive side.”

Obi-Wan nearly choked on his spit and covered his mouth when he began to cough. He was suddenly mildly concerned for the well-being of his friend if he continued his shameless leering. Taking a moment to clear his throat and fight off a laugh, he straightened in his spot and glanced over to find her smiling at him faintly. He wasn’t sure if she was amused by his coughing fit or the fact that he’d _known_ Quinlan was being lecherous.

“Would you like some water?” She asked, moving to dig into the rucksack for a canteen.

“That’s quite all right, thank you.”

“Master Kenobi?”

“Yes?”

“I hope you understand that I am very, _very_ humbled by your offer. You have been a good friend and mentor to me since I was very young.” She’d put her hands back in her lap again and appeared to be doing her best not to fidget again. She fought to maintain eye contact with him, though he could see her struggling quite hard with her composure. If he reached hard enough into the Force, he could feel that telltale ache of self-imposed disappointment. “I simply do not feel worthy of the privilege. Lightsaber lessons are one thing—but…”

“What makes you feel unworthy?”

“The same things that my current master has deemed me unworthy as _his_ Padawan. I do not want to be trouble for you. There are others at the Temple who could use your guidance. You would only be wasting your—”

“I disagree.” He said plainly, giving her a look. “As you said, I have mentored you since you were young. I do not see how this would be any different.”

“It is… _very_ different.”

He was growing tired of this and it showed on his face when he sighed hard in frustration and physically turned in his spot to look at her. Leaning in to make sure she was actually looking him in the eye and not just pretending, Obi-Wan furrowed his brow and narrowed his eyes slightly. She looked surprised that he was so close but made no move to shift away. She only stared back at him and waited to see what he had to say.

“Are you truly declining my offer, Iza?” One brow quirked high on his forehead and he saw her features shift slightly. He found it so funny how that seemed to happen whenever he said her first name. “Do you wish for things to remain the way that they are? Because if that is the case, Quinlan and I will take our things and we will go. I will not burden you with my presence if you do not—”

“I accept.”

He couldn’t help the way he reeled back at the way she blurted it out like that. Had he known he only needed to put a bit of pressure behind his offer, he might’ve just done that in the first place. Part of him wondered if she simply did not want to lose the company, but he wouldn’t dwell on that for long. Instead, he would take a deep breath and smile as warmly as he possibly could.

“Wonderful,” he clapped his palms down onto his knees and looked around, suddenly at a loss for what to do next. “Then it’s settled. You will be my Padawan.”

“If the Council approves.” She reminded him.

“The Council _will_ approve,” he assured her, moving to get to his feet. “I will not allow them any other choice.”

“You do not have that kind of pull, Master Kenobi,” watching him curiously as he went to his pack for a meal bar, the brunette turned to fish through the rucksack for a small packet. “I’m so sorry. I forgot to make caf.”

“Do not worry about it. This will be fine for now.” Peeling back the outer wrapper, Obi-Wan broke off half of the bar and started to eat it, turning to hold the other half out to her. “I imagine you have not had breakfast,”

“Oh,” she looked a little sheepish. “I suppose I forgot that too. The two of you were sleeping so soundly that I did not want to disturb you.”

“Quinlan sleeps as though he is dead,” Obi-Wan snorted and rolled his eyes, coming over to give her the other half of the bar. “And I would not have been cross if you’d woken me.”

Thanking him, she pulled a corner off and popped it into her mouth, chewing slowly before pulling a face. Above her, the older Jedi gave an amused snicker and raised an eyebrow when she looked at him.

“I’m sorry,” she glanced away. “I have not had rations in a while. I’ve forgotten how bland they can be.”

“What do you eat out here?”

“Fish, mostly. There’s a wonderful little fruit tree in a grove just up the river. I believe that’s where Quinlan has gone.” Smiling, she shrugged. “On occasion, I will trap things but I do not enjoy having to kill them. It makes me sad.”

“It is for survival, Padawan.”

“It does not matter, Master Kenobi. I do not have the right to decide what lives and what dies. That is for the Force to decide.” Pulling another piece of the bar off, she ate it slowly and hummed in thought. “The fish are plentiful and often swim right up onto the bank. I only ever have to catch the large ones. Oh—” looking up like she’d just remembered something important, she held up a finger. “If you ever come across yellow capped mushrooms while scavenging, _do not consume them_.”

Obi-Wan’s brows nearly disappeared into his hairline.

“May I ask…?”

“I found some about a month ago when I was gathering the fruit I mentioned. They were not blue or purple capped, so I knew they weren’t toxic. But…” Pressing her knuckles to her lips, the brunette looked embarrassed. “They do funny things to your head. That was when I lost my communicator disc. I do not know where I dropped it. I woke up missing my outer and under-tunic and I’m unsure how they got in a tree, but it took about three days before I stopped seeing purple waves around everything.”

“I will be sure to avoid the yellow capped mushrooms.” Obi-Wan looked as though he was trying not to laugh, chewing at his meal bar while looking straight ahead across the river. “And I will tell Quin to do the same.”

“That would be wise.” She started to take another bite of the bar and paused. “Although, he does seem like he may eat them anyway.”

“He certainly _would_.”

“Perhaps I will pick them and dispose of them. They only appear after the rain.” Letting out another thoughtful hum, the girl looked up at him for a long moment and glanced away when Obi-Wan turned his head to look back down at her. She heard him give a quiet chuckle and ducked her chin when she realized he was taking up his seat beside her again.

“I am glad to have found you in good health, my friend,” he said quietly, his attention still on the river in front of them. “I admit that I feared the worst when Master Windu said there had not been any word from you for so long.”

“I’m surprised he sent anyone for me at all, let alone you.”

“Is there a reason he should not have sent me?”

“I suppose not,” she frowned and hesitated. “Master?”

“Yes?”

“Will you grant me a small favor?”

Tilting his head to look at her, Obi-Wan studied her face for a moment before nodding.

“I can do that. What is it?”

“Please do not inquire about the things I mentioned last night. If you must confront Master Windu about his reasons for stranding me here, let it be about my behavior. I do not want… I would like to let these things go. I cannot do that if I know that you have been made aware of them, too.”

“I understand.” He nodded again and offered a light smile when she glanced at him briefly. “You need not worry, my Padawan.”

 _His Padawan_. It felt so strange to say it. Even stranger knowing it was not just an endearment. The Force had deemed it so and it would only be a matter of time before the Council did too. But as Obi-Wan sat eating the rest of his meal bar, waiting for Quinlan to return, he couldn’t help feeling warm on the inside. Like he was finally doing what he was supposed to. Even if this was not going to be a long partnership, at least it would be a comfortable one. To him, that was important. He’d wanted it to feel natural, like Quin’s partnership with Aayla. He understood that there was a different sort of bond there, but at least Iza was a _friend_. He knew her, he knew she trusted him and these things were also important. He did not think he could take a Padawan he could not bond with so naturally.

“Hey!”

Looking up to find that Iza had gotten up from her seat and was rushing Quinlan like an angry bantha, Obi-Wan started to get to his feet when he realized she was pulling something from his arms. Yellow capped mushrooms.

“Excuse me!” The Kiffar looked offended as the Padawan plucked every single mushroom from his grip and threw them into the surrounding brush. “It took me a long time to pick those!”

“You cannot eat those,” she huffed, pointing to the water. “Wash your hands off this instant!”

Looking between the girl and Obi-Wan, Quinlan waved a hand and moved to set the armload of brightly colored fruit down before kneeling at the water’s edge.

“Are you going to let her order me around like that?”

“In this instance,” Obi-Wan laughed, watching as Iza knelt beside the Jedi and began furiously scrubbing her hands as well. “ _Yes_.”

~*~*~*~

“I do not remember this place being so kriffing hot.”

“Master Quin, please mind your tongue.” Iza looked uncomfortable as she looked back at the man behind her. She got a strange look in return before he held an apologetic hand up and nodded.

“My apologies.” He waited until she’d turned around again before rolling his eyes and glancing to Obi-Wan, who walked beside him in absolute silence. His friend had not said a word since they’d left the village and he was starting to worry a little bit. After they’d confirmed with Master Windu that Padawan Tacor was alive and well, Quinlan and the girl had been kicked out of the starship and made to wait while Obi-Wan had a very long discussion with the man—and the Council, the Kiffar imagined. There had been a bit of a heated discussion—not that Quinlan had listened in or anything—that ended with Obi-Wan emerging very flustered and irritated. He had not even confirmed to the girl whether or not he’d been allowed to take her as his Padawan and had completely ignored her curious looks. Padawan Tacor had learned quickly not to bother him and fallen silent as well, only speaking to remind them that they needed to gather things from the ship to bring back to camp.

Thankfully, there had been spare bedding and enough food rations to last for at least a week. Someone would have to go offworld for more if they decided they preferred them to the things that were available in their surroundings. They’d also taken a few more power-cell lanterns and some other goods to spruce the camp up, although the Padawan had initially argued against taking them. Only when Obi-Wan had started cramming things into his pack without bothering to stop and ask if they were needed or necessary did she stop fussing about it. Now they were heading back and there was a fair amount of tension clouding the already humid air. It was uncomfortable and Quinlan couldn’t stand it. He hated serious situations like this, but he had no idea how to lighten the mood without the risk of angering his longtime friend. So, he’d taken to watching the Padawan. She moved along the trail easily with her bare feet, stepping around sharper rocks and finding just the right footholds to use during the steeper descents. He and Obi-Wan were having a bit of a tougher time in their boots and he wished that he was allowed to just _jump_ ahead like he normally would. It was only because he didn’t want to leave his companions behind that he hadn’t done so already.

Perhaps he should not have been staring so intently at the little indentations at the base of the girl’s spine, or counting the odd scars that seemed to line her skin along her hips and shoulders. And maybe he should not have watched the way the sweat rolled down the back of her neck to soak into the tunic she’d tied up to keep cool in this disgusting heat. Regardless, Quinlan had allowed himself to get distracted and let his mind wander to places it should not have gone. He knew— _he knew_ it was inappropriate to think such thoughts when he wasn’t even sure the girl was of the right age; he’d have to ask Obi-Wan how old she was again. But when the girl suddenly seemed to tense in front of him when he’d thought something particularly lecherous about her backside, he realized he’d overstepped a huge boundary. Her shoulders bunched uncomfortably and he could see that she’d started breathing in an almost panicked manner before she picked her pace up. _Kriff_. He hadn’t meant to project. He wondered if she knew it’d been him.

He didn’t get the chance to wonder for very long when she set her heel on a rock that was loose in the dirt and it slipped free, the girl letting out a strangled cry as she fell hard on her rear and began skidding down the path.

“ _Iza!_ ” Obi-Wan was shoving him out of the way before he even had a chance to help, leaping his way down the mountainside to try and catch up with her before she could hit the bottom. Dust and loose gravel kicked up beneath the treads of his boots when he landed in front of her and threw his hands out to stop her mid-roll. Panting from the heat and the light exertion, Obi-Wan rushed forward to gather her up from the dirt and check her for injuries. “Are you all right?”

She was filthy and her trousers had torn in several places. Light spots of blood were seeping through the material and there were a few minor scrapes all up and down the places where her skin was bared, but aside from that—she seemed to be fine. Nodding, she turned startled eyes to him and—without thinking—slipped her arms around his neck. Obi-Wan froze, arms hovering over her comically as he blinked and tried to figure out how the hell he was supposed to react. The heavy thud of Quinlan’s boots landing beside him startled him half to death and he jerked back from the embrace, settling his hands on Iza’s shoulders.

“You okay, little one?” Quinlan brushed his thick locs out of his eyes as he looked her over, hating the way she looked at him like he was the most foul being in the galaxy. He supposed she had a right to think such a thing; he’d probably feel the same.

“Fine,” she turned away from him and pulled her rucksack high onto her shoulders before pulling away from Obi-Wan to head towards the camp. Staring after her, Obi-Wan frowned and took a moment to silently read her before a look of anger twisted his features.

“Obi—” Quinlan braced himself for a shove and got a punch instead. It wasn’t enough to do much damage, but it sure as hell set his head spinning for a minute.

“Have some damn _respect_ , Quin!” Obi-Wan spat, shaking his hand out. He didn’t know what the hell that man’s bones were made of, but clearly it was not the same as a normal human’s genetic makeup. “That is my _Padawan_. How the hell would you feel if someone put that filth into Aayla’s head?”

Quinlan knew better than to tell him that people _had_ put things like that in Aayla’s head before, and he’d reacted much like his friend had. It served no purpose to fight back against him, really. Rubbing his cheek where he’d been hit, the taller man simply gave a low bow and did his best to look as ashamed of himself as possible. He’d known, after all, that he shouldn’t have done it. He’d been bored; it was no excuse, but it was his only reason.

“Forgive me, my friend,”

“I am not the one you should ask forgiveness from.” Snorting angrily, Obi-Wan turned and stomped off towards the camp. He found Iza sitting near the mouth of the cave beside her makeshift bed, lightly patting at her ruined trousers to get the dust out of them. Her chin rested atop her knees and she looked… _worried?_ Dropping his heavy pack next to where she’d left her rucksack, he hesitated before taking up the spot beside her with a hard sigh. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

“Master Kenobi,” her tight voice sparked his concern even more. “What did the Council say?”

“Is that what is troubling you so heavily?” The girl was littered with bumps and scrapes and she was more worried about his conversation with Windu and the Council. Obi-Wan wasn’t sure if he needed to remind her of her priorities or not.

“Am I to be expelled?”

“ _No_ ,” turning to her, he tilted his head to try and get her to look at him. “Iza, I apologize if my silence has made you anxious. The news I have is _good_.”

“If it is so good then why do I only feel frustration from you?”

“It has nothing to do with you.” He paused, thinking. “Not _you_ directly, my friend. Just the conversation I had with your former master.”

“Former…” realization slowly sank into her features, her eyes going wide. “You mean…?”

He smiled warmly and brushed a bit of dirt from her shoulder, giving a nod.

“You are _officially_ my Padawan. So says the Council.” His smile slowly turned into a smug little grin. “Master Qui-Gon may or may not have vouched for me as a positive guiding influence during your younger years.”

Iza looked for a moment like she might hug him again, but when she twisted in her seat she simply sat on her legs and rested her hands on her knees.

“I will not fail you, Master Kenobi,” she promised, looking about as earnest as she was eager and excited. “I will make you proud.”

It was as though she were a youngling again, bright eyed and ready to take on whatever task that was handed to her. Like the fire had been reignited within her. She was getting a chance not many got; most Padawans who were cast aside did not find new masters and were sent off to become workers instead of Jedi. As she sat there with those sweet eyes of hers staring at him with such enthusiasm, Obi-Wan could only smile and set a hand carefully on her shoulder.

“I have no doubt that you will.” He would not linger. After Quinlan’s inappropriate behavior, he was sure his touch would likely bother her, no matter how benign. Turning to grab his pack, he pulled it closer and opened it to root around for one of the med kits. Holding it out to her, he raised an eyebrow. “Do you feel you need to use this?”

“No sir,” she shook her head. “I have suffered worse injuries than this out here.”

Well, that certainly did not put him at ease. A crease formed between his brows as a concerned look crossed his features and he set the kit down on his lap. Even when she tried to give him a reassuring smile, Obi-Wan could not put himself at ease.

“You must take care of yourself, my Padawan. I will do my best not to give too many restrictions, as you seem to do quite well on your own. But I do not want you to behave too recklessly.”

“Master,” her smile softened and she looked for a moment like she was going to argue. Instead, she gave a nod. “Yes sir.”

“Good girl,” he smiled and nodded back. Making a face, he twisted to look back towards the path they’d come from and grunted lightly. “I would have thought Quin would’ve caught up by now.”

“He can sleep in the bushes for all I care.” Iza muttered, shifting her gaze when Obi-Wan turned back to look at her. Her cheeks had gone pink and she looked beyond irritated. He supposed he couldn’t blame her.

“Would you like me to ask him to stay in the starship?”

“It’s much too hot for that.”

“Would you like me to ask him to find another place to set up camp, then?”

“I would like you to tell him to keep his filthy mind to himself.” Scowling, she dropped her head and pretended to be interested in the dirt beneath her nails. “I cannot stop him if he is going to have such thoughts, but he does not need to share them with me.”

“I might have already given him that warning.” Looking to the hand that was sporting a set of swollen knuckles, Obi-Wan made a face. “I’m terribly sorry about him. He has a good heart and is a great Jedi, but his mind is not always pure.”

“May I see?” Gesturing to his hand, Iza looked up at Obi-Wan and got a quirked brow in return. After a moment, he shrugged and simply held his hand out to her. Taking it gingerly, the brunette studied it before carefully laying her other palm over the top. Obi-Wan felt something warm begin to sink into the aching area and reached his other hand out to stop her.

“You needn’t—”

“ _Shh_ ,” she gave a quick shake of her head and closed her eyes, scrunching her face hard in concentration. After a few beats, she relaxed and let out a slow breath, lifting her hand away from his. “Better?”

Pulling it back, he flexed his fingers and noted that the pain and swelling were gone. A deep frown curved the corners of his lips downward and he fixed her with a stern look. For a moment, he sincerely thought about scolding her. He knew it took a fair bit of energy to do something like that, even for the smallest of wounds. If she were going to heal someone, it ought to be herself. He could’ve fixed this on his own. But she was looking at him with such a soft, expectant expression—like she was waiting for praise for her kind deed. He couldn’t find it in him to snap at her.

“Yes, thank you.” That sour expression faded from his features, but he did not smile.

“You’re cross with me.”

“I am not cross.” He held a finger up. “I simply wish to ask that you not do that again.”

“Yes Master Kenobi.”

“Iza,” he let out a breathless laugh and rubbed at the back of his neck. “You may call me by my name.”

“That _is_ your name.”

“My _first_ name.”

“That’s inappropriate.” She shook her head and drew her bottom lip between her teeth. “You are my teacher. I should address you properly.”

“You are not a youngling anymore, Iza. We have known each other a long time.” The smile he’d withheld began to form on his lips, spreading into a grin when the younger girl’s expression became stubborn. “Do not make that face at me. I am your master and I am giving you my full permission to use my first name in place of my last. You do not hear me calling _my_ master **Master Jinn** , do you?”

“All right.” She still looked extremely uncertain about it. “I will try to remember.”

“I suppose that’s all I can ask of you.” Grin softening, Obi-Wan looked around with a sigh. “Well, I believe I should go and see what is taking Quinlan so long.”

“I can get the supplies put away. Maybe set up—”

“I would like you to get yourself cleaned up. Use the med kit to patch up any wounds that may need it.” He pointed to some of the blood staining her clothes. “You worry about yourself, my Padawan. Quin and I will take care of the camp.”

“I told you I’m all right.”

“Mm,” he nodded. “And I sense you’re in pain.”

Iza ducked her head and thinned her lips, looking sheepish. After a moment, she looked back up at him and straightened her back.

“I am not a youngling, Master. I can handle a little bit of bruising.” She knew by the way his expression shifted that perhaps, this was not the right thing to say. His eyes seemed to darken and a frown pulled at the corners of his mouth again, causing a sinking feeling in her belly that she didn’t like. It was that same cross look he’d given after she’d mended his hand; he was displeased by her stubbornness. Bunching her shoulders, she averted her gaze. “I’m sorry.”

“Do not take my concern lightly, young one.”

“I am _not_ taking it lightly!” She insisted, picking her head up with an exasperated look. “I appreciate it, even. But Master, I am a grown woman. I know how much my own body can take. I have fallen down that mountain several times. This is the least amount of damage I have ever sustained from such a fall. I do not wish to argue against you, but I would like you to _listen_ to me when I say that I am relatively unharmed.”

“Very well,” getting to his feet, Obi-Wan set the kit down on top of his pack. “You should still clean up. You’re filthy.”

“I do not have anything else to wear.”

“I have a spare set of robes in that bag,” he gestured to the pack and studied her for a moment. “They will be a bit long, but they should fit you. I can send Quinlan offworld to replace your ruined clothes tomorrow.”

“I can repair them,” Iza did not want to be a burden if she could help it. She already felt as though he’d done enough for her. “I have the fish bones from last night’s meal. They’ll work for needles and I—”

“You will need proper clothes for training. I cannot have you running around in mended robes that may not stay mended.”

“Yes Master,” lowering her gaze, Iza decided it was best not to argue anymore. It was only natural that arguing seemed to make him upset, but it also made him speak to her in an unfriendly tone and she didn’t like it. She was used to Obi-Wan being warm and kind with her; even when he’d grown frustrated in the past, he’d been reasonably gentle about it. But things were different now. A lot of things. He would need to be firm with her and treat her like a student and not a friend. She would simply have to adjust to it. She only hoped she would not do anything that would have him so frustrated with her that he would yell. Iza had only ever heard him yell a handful of times and it was not a pleasant thing to witness. She was sure that if he were to direct that sort of heated emotion at her, she would not be able to handle it. Her stomach was already bothered by that disappointed frown he gave when she talked back. That was a habit she would need to cut back on, too.

“Here,”

Startled as a stack of folded linen was pressed into her lap, Iza looked up at him to find his features had gone soft. This was better. He looked more like the Obi-Wan she knew when he wore this face. Something in her chest clenched tight as she studied the pretty blue color of his eyes. He was handsome. He was _so_ handsome. With his high cheekbones and neatly carved jaw so newly decorated with fine, coppery hairs—she could still picture him without the beard if she tried hard enough—and his thick head of light auburn hair that was just a _little_ too long; he was so _painfully_ handsome. The single brown freckle on his cheek served as a rather distracting focal point at times, but it was his smile that served to be the most distracting of all. He hurt her heart and healed it at the same time whenever he flashed one of those warm, borderline mischievous smiles in her direction. It was unfair that he’d been made this way and that she could not have him. She had settled for being his friend and she would settle for being his Padawan. To be close to him—that was all she wanted. That was all she ever wanted.

“Thank you,” she didn’t want to look away but she knew she had to. If she continued staring like this, he would likely question her. She didn’t want that. She didn’t want to be asked questions she feared giving him the answers to. It had been hard enough to pull away from him the night before when Master Quin had correctly guessed one of the reasons her former master had sent her here. He could never know. She had to let these things go and put them out into the Force. But as he cast a fond look in her direction and smiled at her the way that he did now, Iza felt like crying. _Unfair_. Everything was so damn unfair. It did not help when he gave her shoulder a gentle pat before rising to his full height. She thought she heard him say something about going to find Master Quin again and simply nodded in response. Watching from the corner of her eye as he walked away, Iza let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding and put her face in her hands. Her palms came away wet and she quickly wiped them off on her ruined trousers, hastily getting to her feet with the borrowed robes clutched tight to her chest. She could not do this here. She could not let him sense her distress and come running back.

Rushing through the brush to the left side of the camp, she held the robes up high over her head as she trudged into the river towards an area she knew would give her a bit of privacy. The water would be warmed by the sun at this point in the day and make it a little more pleasant to wade around in. By the time she’d reached the pool, she was out of breath and her eyes were so full of tears that she was surprised she could still see at all. Finding a place to put the robes down, she sat down hard on a rock and allowed herself to break. Her body shook with soundless sobs, fingers coming up to release her hair and shake the dirt from it as it fell in a thick curtain around her shoulders, shrouding her face. She needed this; she needed to let these things out. Master Windu had told her that holding onto her feelings was what drew her so close to the Dark Side, but he had never told her how to properly dispose of them. His methods of dispelling his emotions into Vaapad had not worked for her. It was not anger that drove her to behave the way that she did—not always. But there had been no lesson for this. There had been lectures on not harboring possessive feelings for a person or for _things_. He’d told her that a Jedi did not _hold on_ to anything when they had a fear of losing it. A Jedi could be compassionate, but could not feel the same kind of love that a normal person was allowed to feel.

She had tried. She had tried _so hard_ not to let herself feel these things. But Obi-Wan was always so kind to her, always so willing to help when she needed it. He had been such a good friend even during the years he’d been busy with his training. He was patient and gentle and never lost his temper with her; she’d never stood a chance. Master Windu had caught on that she was distracted by her feelings, but had not found the source. The whisperings of her agemates had solidified his suspicions, though they’d pointed him in the wrong direction. She’d been accused of feeling these things for another Padawan—a younger boy; Master Qui-Gon’s new Padawan, in fact—and her anger over such accusations had ultimately been what Master Windu sent her away for. It did not matter how much she protested, he would not hear her. She had too many strikes against her for her past actions. Iza knew she deserved to be here. The punishment was severe, but it was fitting.

She did not know what she was going to do now. Perhaps she needed to start by listening to Master Kenobi and get herself cleaned up. Her body ached terribly from the fall and she wished she’d brought the med kit. There were wounds on her legs that could have used some of the bacta spray. She also did not want to get blood on his robes. Maybe she could heal them herself. Hopefully he would not become upset with her for it if she returned in a state of light exhaustion from doing so. Scrubbing the last of the tears from her face, Iza breathed a heavy sigh and got to her feet to undress and get into the water. She would take her time here and relax for a while. She needed to balance herself out again before she went back to the camp and if anyone asked, she could always say she’d been meditating.

The excuse had always worked for her in the past.

~*~*~*~

“Little one, may I have a word?”

Iza looked up from where she sat next to the fire, idly stirring the soup intended for that evening’s supper. Fish and assorted edible vegetation; it was better than meal bars. She hesitated as she stared at Quinlan, a strange feeling rising in her chest at the look in his eye. He hadn’t said a word to her since Obi-Wan had brought him back to camp and he’d been very careful to avoid her, which she’d been grateful for. She had not wanted a confrontation with him if she could help it, but it seemed that the Force had other ideas. Shifting her gaze from the man looming over her to Obi-Wan, she got a light nod from her master as a sign that it was safe to speak to the other Jedi. Setting the stirring utensil aside, Iza slowly got to her feet and obediently tucked her hands behind her back, though she still hesitated to look the older man in the eye.

“Yes, Master Quin?”

“I would like to apologize for my—ah—rather inappropriate behavior this afternoon. I should not have allowed myself to project such thoughts onto you like that. I assure you, it will not happen again.” Quinlan bowed his head, his dark eyes flicking up to look at her.

Iza shifted uncomfortably and gave a single, curt nod.

“Thank you, Master Quin.”

“I do not want you to think of me as some sort of… _degenerate_. I do not freely go around thinking such thoughts about girls as young as yourself, I swear.”

“I am not that young, Master Quin.” She didn’t mean to sound so indignant about it. “In any case—it is _your_ mind. You may do what you like with it. Please refrain from sharing.”

“I shall.”

Giving another nod, Iza turned back to the soup to stir it again while Quinlan straightened and breathed a quiet sigh of relief. The light tension that had fallen over the camp seemed to bleed away and the atmosphere became relaxed once more. After a long spell of silence, Obi-Wan spoke.

“You have a birthday soon, do you not?” His question was directed at the brunette, who looked at him in surprise.

“It has passed,” she let out a soft laugh as her mouth quirked briefly in a disbelieving smile. “A week ago tomorrow. You remember my birthday, Master Obi-Wan?”

“I remember that it is not long after mine. Do not give me too much credit, young one.” He gave her a look and a smile. “You’re… seventeen, now?”

“ _Eighteen_.” That sweet look of hers twisted into one of annoyance. “Everyone thinks me younger because of my stature. It is not my fault that I have not grown taller.”

“Eighteen. Why does that make me feel ancient?” Humming, he tapped his bottom lip. “Perhaps because someone believes their former master to be _old_ as well?”

“ _Master Obi-Wan,_ ” picking up a small pebble, she threw it at him, watching as he stopped it mid-air with a wave of his hand. There was an almost playful look in his eye as he let the stone drop to the ground with a chuckle.

“I jest,”

“You are not funny.”

“I think I am sometimes.” Turning to look at Quinlan, Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. “Quin, am I not funny at times?”

Quinlan gave a look like he hadn’t quite been listening to them. Blinking, he stared at Obi-Wan for a minute before giving a nod and a wave of his hand.

“Oh— _sure_ , Obi. You’re very amusing.” He gave a snort. “Especially when you’ve had a few too many drinks.”

“ _Quinlan_.”

“What? That woman at the Outlander thought you were _very_ entertaining after a few whiskeys.”

Obi-Wan shot his friend a foul look, jerking to attention when he heard a soft gasp of pain come from the direction where Iza sat. Watching her set the stirring utensil aside in favor of going to the river’s edge to dip her palm into the water, he frowned and got to his feet, wandering over curiously.

“Iza?”

“I’m all right,” she waved her free hand at him and smiled tightly when she looked back over her shoulder. “I just touched the pot by accident.”

“Let me see,”

“No, it’s—”

Gently lifting her hand from the water, the Jedi examined the angry looking welt already beginning to blister in the center of the girl’s palm. Had she grabbed the handle of the damn thing without a cloth? Frowning, he tried to look at her only to find that she’d ducked her chin and refused to look at him at all. Shaking his head with a soft _tut_ , he lightly placed his palm over the top of hers and felt her flinch and try to pull her hand back.

“Master—”

“I will not hurt you.”

She knew that. Of course she knew that. She knew exactly what he was going to do and she didn’t want him to waste his time. There were med kits stacked inside of the cave. A little bit of bacta would go a long way and she’d be just fine. He did not need to spend his energy on such a superficial injury. He did not need to hold her damn hand like this and make her head so dizzy with his closeness. It was bad enough that she hadn’t been able to shake the smell of him from her nose because of the borrowed robes she wore. This was making it so much worse. He was going to knock her progress back even more and she would not be able to keep her promise of making him proud as his Padawan.

“You’re shaking,” now he sounded even more concerned. “Does it hurt that much?”

“Yes,” she had to lie. She didn’t want to, but she couldn’t tell him the truth either. She prayed to the Force that he wouldn’t know. “It hurts a lot.”

“Obi,” Quinlan’s voice startled them both. “Use the bacta.”

“This is faster.” Looking over his shoulder, Obi-Wan frowned. There was something in the other man’s expression that he couldn’t quite read, but he was too focused on getting the burn healed to think about it.

“It will ease her pain.”

“So will this.”

The look in Quinlan’s eyes seemed to question that statement, but the man said nothing more. He just gave a dismissive flick of his fingers and looked elsewhere in the camp. Making an impatient noise, Obi-Wan shook his head at his friend and turned his focus back to the brunette. Shutting his eyes, he pulled from the ever-present Force that swirled around him and channeled the energy into something warm and healing, sending it into the painful wound on the girl’s palm. He felt her fingers twitch, heard a soft intake of breath, and noticed that she slowly seemed to become more relaxed. After a few moments, he lifted his hand away to check the status of the burn and grunted in satisfaction to find it had vanished. Iza, however, still would not look at him.

“Padawan Tacor?”

“Thank you.” She murmured, gently pulling her hand from his grasp. “I will try not to be so careless, Master.”

Obi-Wan studied as much of her face that he could see and nodded slowly, watching her move away from him to tend to the soup once more.

“You are not in trouble,” he said once she’d gotten settled.

“I know.”

“Will you look at me, then?”

 _No_.

She hadn’t spoken, but he thought he’d heard her say it quite clearly. For a minute, he was confused. He very nearly questioned _why_ she refused, and likely would have if she hadn’t suddenly turned her head and fixed him with a look he couldn’t read. Her expression was just _blank_ ; eyes dull, no smile, no hint of anything she might be thinking. It left him feeling very concerned, but he wasn’t sure he ought to voice that. She looked nothing like the girl he knew in that moment. It was as though she’d just shut herself down entirely and—for reasons he couldn’t explain—it made something low in his chest ache. She should not have to hide herself from him. They were in a kind of partnership now and there needed to be trust between them. She had trusted him when they were simply friends—why not now? Why would taking her as his Padawan change things so suddenly?

“Have I upset you?” He wasn’t sure why those were the words he spoke, but they were off his tongue before he could stop them.

“No, Master,”

He could not tell if she was lying. Trying to read her emotions was like reaching into static. Someone had taught this girl how to block others out, and they’d taught her well.

“Do you trust me?”

“With my life,” the answer was instantaneous. No hesitation, no need to pause and contemplate. It was as though she’d expected him to ask and had been waiting for it. And still—she would not let him read her.

“Will you promise me something?”

“Anything, Master,”

Obi-Wan moved closer and sat on his knees in front of her, keeping eye contact with her until his mind tricked him into thinking they were the only two on the sand bank. He would not touch her, would not take her hands even if he wanted to. But he held her gaze and breathed deep, noting how she seemed to follow the same pattern as his lungs. _Strange_.

“Do not hide from me. If there is something that troubles you, anything at all, please tell me. It does no good for either of us if you are hindered by your feelings. If you find yourself struggling to let them go, I can help. That is why I am here.”

Her eyes flicked lightly back and forth as her breathing picked up and Obi-Wan felt his chest beginning to rise and fall faster in response. _How odd_. Perhaps he was feeding off of her anxieties? He could feel that she wanted to look away from him again, but could not seem to do so. It seemed like an eternity before she finally nodded at him and he swore he saw something like _fear_ flicker across her features before she spoke.

“I promise.”

He smiled, noting the odd way they both seemed to take the same sharp intake of breath, and shut his eyes with a gentle bow of his head. When he opened them again, he was sitting before the fire again and Iza had averted her gaze once more. The atmosphere was a little more comfortable between them, even if she felt… _nervous?_ Perhaps she had not expected to make such a deal that evening. In fairness, he had not expected to present her with it either. Murmuring something unintelligible, Obi-Wan got to his feet again to sit near Quinlan, noting the way the other man’s eyes seemed to follow him curiously. When he’d dropped into the seat beside him, he raised an eyebrow and gave the Kiffar’s arm a nudge with his elbow.

“What’s that face for?”

Quinlan snorted and shot him a look.

“You’ve never struck me as the _bonding_ type, Obi.”

“Excuse me?”

Gesturing to the girl who’d gone back to her cooking, Quinlan gave a light shrug and smirked faintly.

“You two just had an entire conversation, right?”

“Yes. It’s quite rude of you to have listened in—”

“I heard _none_ of it, Obi.” Giving his friend a knowing look, the Jedi shook his head. “I watched you stare at that girl for five minutes and breathe at the same pace she was breathing. But neither of you spoke. That’s a Force bond, my friend.”

Obi-Wan brought a hand up over his mouth and stared hard at the ground. Well, _that_ certainly explained a few of the stranger elements of what had just happened. _A Force bond_. He knew of them, of course. He’d had one with his master for years before Qui-Gon had taken another Padawan. From what he understood of them, they were something that had to happen _naturally_ between two Force sensitives. Quinlan shared one with Aayla; he’d shared one with her since she was a small child as a result of his rescue of her. But there was no special reason for him to have one with Iza. They were friends, but not particularly close friends. There had been no incident where one might have formed from trauma or other _special_ means. He had certainly not been her teacher long enough for one to form, either. Perhaps his insistence for her to not lock him out had been enough? He did not know. He did not know who to ask, either.

“Take care with her, Obi,” Quinlan spoke softly, fiddling with a leaf he’d plucked from a bush nearby. “You do not need me to tell you how delicate a thing a Force bond can be. But it’s… different when they’re your Padawan.”

“What does that mean?”

“You will learn soon enough, my old friend,” chuckling, Quinlan tore the leaf in half. “You will learn.”


	3. I'm Bad at Life

“You’re pushing again,” Obi-Wan shook his head as he twirled his lightsaber, walking a full circle around the brunette. “I will not tell you a third time, Iza. This is a _defensive_ form. Focus on surviving, not attacking. I have already taken your leg and your arm. I will go for your head next.”

Iza followed him with her eyes, idly mimicking the effortless twirl. Her arm still stung where the blade of his lightsaber had struck it, but thankfully her trousers had been thick enough to withstand the blow to her thigh. It did not matter how low the power had been set. She was not used to this; defensive maneuvers were all well and good for someone with such a peaceful heart, but hers longed to strike out and make him eat his threat to take her head.

“Calm yourself,” he pointed the end of the blue blade at her, giving her a look. “ _Focus_ , my Padawan.”

She rolled her head on her shoulders and shifted her stance, drawing the hand holding her lightsaber back. Her hips twisted slightly as she pulled a leg back to brace it parallel to her arm, lowering herself to the ground a fraction for stability. Her free hand came up, fingers extended in the same manner she’d seen him do a hundred times. Taking in a deep breath, Iza locked her gaze with his and nodded once. She did not expect him to strike out so aggressively while maintaining such a neutral expression. Iza dropped before the blade could strike her neck, sweeping her arm out to block it with her saber and twisting when he whirled to try again from the other side. Their blades clashed briefly and he gave her no time to try and fight back, swinging from a different angle and striking her hard against the cheek.

“That’s your head.” Straightening, the Jedi exhaled harshly and shook his head. “Ten seconds. Iza, I have seen you spar before. I know you can do better than this.”

Iza didn’t say anything.

“You really must learn to focus, young one. Offensive combat is all well and good but if you cannot defend yourself—” Obi-Wan paused when he felt a strange tightness in his stomach. What an _odd_ feeling. It was as though he wanted to cry, but for what reason? Shaking it off as best as he could, he turned to look back at her to continue his scolding and found her gone. “Iza?”

She had been here just a moment ago and he had not heard her leave. Her lightsaber lay deactivated on the grass, but he could not tell which way she’d gone. It was as though she’d simply vanished. That tightness in his belly became a sort of heavy ache that worried him. Was he ill? Was _she_ ill? She would have to be to just _leave_ the weapon behind like that. Stooping to pick the saber up, he felt a gentle flicker of warmth along the flow of the Force and looked off in the direction it had come from. There was a small thicket of trees just beyond the area they’d been using for the Soresu lessons, and Obi-Wan could sense that heaviness pouring in from that direction. Straightening, he followed it, being mindful of his footfalls as not to startle any of the wild creatures they’d seen here earlier. Some of them were not as friendly as others and he was not looking to fight off any beasts today. The air became cooler the further he went and he paused at the gentle sensation of palms against his chest. He was not wanted here; _why?_

“Iza?” He had to find his Padawan. He no longer had any interest in scolding her for her inability to focus. He simply wanted to make sure she was not injured. He had struck her quite hard, though he hadn’t meant to. He thought she’d be able to block the attack. She was so petite and she moved quite swiftly when practicing her own lightsaber form and when she engaged in hand-to-hand; he’d thought such a simple sweeping attack would be easy for her. “Iza, are you here?”

Silence. If she was here, she did not want to be found. That thought put a soft sort of sadness in his chest. He would at least have liked to apologize for his brutality. If she wished to be left alone, he would grant her that. He only wanted her to know that he had not meant to hurt her. Giving the area one last sweep with his eyes, he heaved a defeated sigh and rubbed at the back of his neck. Perhaps he was no good at being a master. Iza’s demeanor had changed so much over the last few weeks since she’d been passed on to him, though he was not sure she knew he’d noticed. There were moments when he saw the same girl he’d known for years. Bright and happy and eager to take whatever knowledge he had to give her. But then he would say something or do something that he felt was perfectly normal for a teacher to do and she would become so soft and meek. Maybe this was the side of her Quinlan remembered that he could not. He wished she would honor her promise to not hide from him, but he also would not force it upon her either.

“I will be at the camp.” He said to the clearing, unsure if anyone but the animals even heard him. “I’m sorry if I’ve hurt you. It was not my intention.”

That would have to do until he saw her face to face again. Turning to go, he hung the lightsabers on his belt and sighed again. He wished he could ask Master Qui-Gon for advice on this. It would be much easier to have his mentor around to ask for guidance. Quinlan was of little help. He gave such cryptic advice and seemed to tiptoe around things, telling him that he would simply _know_ what to do. Well, Obi-Wan did not know at all what to do. It almost felt as though the Force had played some sort of foul joke on him. He had wanted a Padawan and had gotten a Padawan, but she frustrated him with her behavior so much. Maybe he would have done better with a youngling and not an adult woman. Guilt pooled into his core at that thought. _No_. The Force had given her to him for a reason. He just wished he knew what that blasted reason _was_. To keep her out of the Service Corps was the obvious answer, but there had to be something _more_ to it. He just knew it. Master Windu would not give up such a promising student if it were not the will of the Force.

“Why the hangdog look?” Quinlan’s voice brought him to the present as he trekked into the camp to find the man stretched out along his bedroll. A second glance from the Kiffar had him frowning. “Where is the Padawan?”

“I am not sure,” throwing his hands out, Obi-Wan took the lightsabers from his belt to stow them away where they belonged inside of the cave. “We were having a training session and I fear I may have upset her.”

“What have you done now?”

Running his fingers through his hair, Obi-Wan avoided his friend’s gaze. He picked up a canteen to take a long drink from it and stared down into the mouth of it.

“Obi?”

“I did not mean to do it.” The Jedi said softly, playing with the cap. “She was not focusing as she should have been. It was an accident.”

“If you struck her, you should not feel so guilty. We have all been hit with those damn things.” Laughing, Quinlan gestured to where Obi-Wan had stashed the sabers. “She has likely been hit harder, knowing how Windu likes to fight.”

“I do not think he has ever struck her face, Quin.”

The other man jackknifed up from his spot and stared hard. A moment passed and he blew out a breath, running long fingers over his locs.

“It was an accident, Obi.”

“I feel like a bastard.” It took a lot for Obi-Wan Kenobi to use words like that. Even when he was drunk, he tended to skirt around swear words. He’d tiptoe as close to them as possible, but rarely ever let them fall from his tongue. He could not remember the last time the word _kriff_ had been uttered from his lips. He must’ve been an adolescent. Unlike Quinlan, who could say such coarse things without a care in the universe who heard them, Obi-Wan felt such vulgarities to be unbecoming of a Jedi.

“She will forgive you.” Quinlan murmured knowingly. “You are her master and her friend. She knows you did not mean to do it.”

“That does not change how _I_ feel, Quin.” Capping the canteen, he dropped it back where he’d found it and folded his arms over his chest. “I did not even stop to ask if she was all right. I kept scolding her for not maintaining focus. I treated it as though it were _her_ fault when it was mine.”

“Obi,” the other Jedi’s tone changed and drew Obi-Wan’s gaze to him. “You are allowing your personal feelings to overwhelm you. You must remember to treat her as your _pupil_.”

“What personal feelings, Quin? What do you mean?”

The other man sucked at his teeth and rubbed a hand over his face. _Oblivious_. Kriffing oblivious. If he had not figured it out by this point, then he was a damn lost cause. It was not Quinlan’s place to tell his friend what his _personal feelings_ were; he did not even know if he was reading these things correctly. All he knew was that the girl certainly harbored some sort of affections for the older man, and it seemed as though his dear old friend may be doing the same for her.

“It is perfectly normal to feel guilty for your actions,” he said carefully, draping his arms over his knees. “But you cannot allow her to run away every time she believes you’ve done something wrong. You are her master. Her teacher. You must be firm and be sure that she is _learning_. She cannot learn anything if she tunes you out.”

“Was Aayla like this?” Obi-Wan gestured widely in the direction of the sparring area. “Did she behave in such a manner with you?”

“At times, yes.” Quinlan gave a light nod followed by a shrug. “But she grew past it quickly. She understood that our partnership was meant to help her grow. Iza must learn the same. You must be firmer with her, my friend.”

Bringing a hand to his mouth, Obi-Wan rubbed a thumb against the corner of his mustache, his eyes going out of focus as he fell deep into thought. Quinlan granted him the silence he needed to do so, looking up when he heard a soft grunt rumble in the other man’s chest.

“I am going to the starship,” Obi-Wan said. “I would like to speak to Master Qui-Gon.”

“What am I supposed to do?”

“You will wait for Iza to return and make sure she stays put when she does.” Picking his canteen up again, Obi-Wan began to head in the direction of the mountain trail. “I will not be long.”

“Obi—”

“Someone needs to be here when she gets back, Quin. I will not have her thinking she has been abandoned again.”

Okay. That was fair. Even still, Quinlan wasn’t sure he wanted to be the one who greeted that girl when she returned. Making a face at the other man, he grumbled and settled back on his bedroll.

“Do not take long. And bring back that bottle of whiskey beneath the bench seat.”

“ _We will see_.”

~*~*~*~

Obi-Wan was at a loss. Master Qui-Gon had been of little help, though he supposed he should have expected that. His master had outright told him that he should have expected for things to be this way. Had he already forgotten that _their_ Master and Padawan partnership had begun as a friendship? So similar they were in nature and experience—even if Obi-Wan could not always see it. His only decent piece of advice was that Obi-Wan needed to work _with_ her emotions, not against them. If she showed signs of distress, he needed to acknowledge them and make her acknowledge them. If she seemed to act out of anger or fear, those things needed to be acknowledged too. He must not let her hide; he needed to make sure she honored the promise she’d made to him, even if it made them both uncomfortable. Master Windu had not done these things properly and that had been part of what caused the rift between them. The girl’s secrecy had led to her aggression—according to Qui-Gon—and it would only continue to grow and inhibit her progress from this point on if he did not work with her. His master had confirmed, more or less, that he’d been correct in thinking this was the will of the Force. That girl needed his guidance and would not make it as a Jedi Knight without it.

Master Qui-Gon would not say anything about her other funny behavior, though. He had said something about women being _different creatures_ and left it at that. That was all well and good, but it did not help him one bit. At least the man had reassured him that he was not a _bad_ teacher. He had gotten this far with her without ever having made her his proper Padawan, after all. As he sat in the captain’s chair in the starship, rubbing thoughtfully at his mustache until he was sure some of the hairs had fallen out, Obi-Wan could not keep his mind from wandering back to the sparring incident. He had expressed his guilt to his master and Qui-Gon had brushed it off as though he’d told him he’d simply bumped her shoulder. It was as though he was not supposed to feel bad about this _at all_ , even though Quinlan had said otherwise. It was all so damn confusing to get such conflicting information. He wished there was some sort of handbook for masters as there was for Padawans. He also wished he still had his copy of that handbook, but it was at the Temple and he could not make the trip and back in enough time.

He hoped she was not upset. He hoped he had not hurt her terribly. It was one thing to strike the body with a saber at that setting; it was another entirely to hit someone in the face. He should never have gone for the head. What a stupid mistake that had been. She would have a welt on her pretty face for a week. The lightsabers were relatively tame in comparison to the real thing when set so low, but they could leave some pretty nasty marks behind. Obi-Wan could remember a few incidences where he’d been left with brutal bruises and blisters on his skin from vicious strikes during play-fights with his agemates. Quinlan was one of the culprits to really wallop him good at times. He almost always got him back, but it’d served to make them both very aggressive in their fighting styles. Perhaps he’d been too aggressive with Iza. She had expected to learn from someone who was known to be gentle. She’d never truly sparred against him, had she? Poor girl; he should have warned her that he did not hold back when it came to lightsaber combat.

Running frustrated fingers through his thick hair, he dropped his head back and folded his arms over his chest, clenching his jaw. He knew he needed to be getting back soon. The sun was getting lower on the horizon and he figured she ought to be back by now. Quinlan would be cross with him if he were to leave him alone with her for too long. The two got along well enough, but ever since the incident where he’d let his perverse thoughts project into her mind, Iza was extremely wary of him. He could not blame her, he supposed. Somewhere deep in the back of his head, he supposed he could not blame Quinlan for having such thoughts either. Sometimes it was hard to see her as nothing more than the young girl who’d eagerly sat around listening to him read or asked him unending questions about his adventures with Master Qui-Gon.

And then there were the times when he would catch himself staring like an absolute roué. Obi-Wan did not want to blame it on her entirely, but the girl often ran around in just her trousers and under-tunic because of the heat. She always kept the under-tunic rolled and tied so high on her torso as well. It was very distracting. Especially when paired with the way she wore the trousers— _his_ trousers—so low on her hips. It was not her fault that they were oversized, he supposed. The sash could only do so much to keep them up. She was always moving about, too; always damp with sweat or wet from the river. He had come to enjoy the early mornings when she would do her blindfolded morning exercises. It allowed him time to admire the graceful way she moved without feeling as though she was going to catch him and accuse him of being as terrible as Quin.

There had been one morning about a week prior, when he’d awoke to find her in the beginning stages of her workout. To this moment, he was still in awe of her flexibility. The way she could bend and twist her lush form so effortlessly was mesmerizing to watch. He’d watched every bunch of her muscles beneath her sun-kissed skin, felt a strange sense of envy at the droplets of sweat that streaked over her curves. She had not tied her tunic properly that morning and it had slipped during a sharp back-bend, exposing perhaps a little more to his eyes than he was meant to see. If she’d known, she hadn’t behaved as such. She only finished her routine and gave him the same soft smile she always did when she took the blindfold off and found him to be awake. There may have been more of a flush on her cheeks than usual, but it had also been a warm morning. Obi-Wan had a very difficult time concentrating that day.

In fact, he often found it hard to concentrate whenever she became upset, too. Nothing could knock him out of focus faster than seeing her eyes lose that soft shimmer. Knowing he often was the source of her upset bothered him a lot. Hopefully his master’s advice would help to ease that, for both of them. He would like it very much if they could stop making each other feel bad. Realizing that he’d been sitting in his thoughts for far too long, Obi-Wan finally rose from his seat and glanced over to the bench seat in silent contemplation. After a very long moment, he went to retrieve the bottle Quin had requested, tucking it beneath his arm before leaving the starship. He made quick work of the mountain, choosing to take the easy way down by simply jumping instead of following the dirt path in an effort to not take more time than he already had. He was trudging through the brush leading into the camp when he heard the sound of heavy grunting up ahead. At first, he wasn’t sure of what to make of the sound. It sounded a lot like Quinlan and it sounded like he was exerting quite a lot of energy into whatever he was doing.

It would be the soft, feminine grunts that had him plowing through the foliage like a damn beast.

Skidding to a stop on the sand, ready to clobber Quinlan half to death for _daring_ to do what it sounded like he was doing with his Padawan, Obi-Wan was surprised to find the two engaged in combat with the training staffs. Iza was red faced and dripping with sweat as she twirled hers while maintaining full eye contact with the Kiffar, and Quinlan grinned like a wild man as he held his poised against his shoulder. Raising his hand, he gestured for her to strike and Iza did exactly that. Grasping the pole tight with both hands at its center, she whipped around with a yell and struck out at him. He twisted easily to block her, letting out a laugh. He was not laughing when the brunette spun the staff around her hand and jammed the end of it against his shoulder, knocking him back into the sand with enough force to kick some of it up. Holding it there, she planted a bare foot on his abdomen and panted, licking the sweat from her upper lip.

“ _Yield_.”

He put his hands up and she lifted off of him, offering her hand to help him to his feet. Looking her over a few times while she used the hem of her tunic to wipe her face, he let out a short laugh and clapped her hard between the shoulders.

“Not bad, little one.”

Twirling the staff, Iza rested it against her shoulder and snorted. She looked as though she was about to say something when an odd expression flickered across her face. Green eyes shifted to look at Obi-Wan and for a moment, she looked like she might turn and run. Beneath her right eye, a dark welt had formed where she’d been hit with his lightsaber and it looked as though it had blistered slightly. She held his gaze long enough to make him feel guilty all over again, and then turned to start towards the cave, collecting the other staff from Quinlan as she went.

“Iza,” Obi-Wan reached to take hold of her arm, halting her. Now that he could see it up close, he saw that perhaps he had not set the lightsaber as low as he believed. The wound looked more like a proper burn and would likely leave a scar. That thought made his chest clench. He truly had not meant to hurt her and yet, he’d done exactly that.

“Master,” she was doing that frustrating thing where she refused to look at him. Her chest was still heaving from her combat session with Quinlan, but Obi-Wan could see the way she was pinching her lower lip to keep it from quivering.

“Look at me,”

She squeezed her eyes shut instead, bringing her other arm up to cover her face with the back of her wrist. Drawing in a hard, shaky breath, she blew it out and turned to look at him. That dullness started to bleed into her eyes, taking with it the rest of the emotion on her face. _Unacceptable_.

“Are you angry with me?” Obi-Wan asked as gently as he could. He got as slow shake of the head in response. It was his turn to thin his lips in frustration. “Do not lie to me. You made a promise, Iza.”

“I am not angry with you, Master Kenobi,” her voice was as flat as she could make it, though there was the tiniest hint of a waver when she said his name. “I am angry with myself. I have disappointed you.”

Obi-Wan felt like she’d reached out and slapped him. He wasn’t sure if it was the sudden use of his last name or the confession that her negative emotions were not meant for him; _something_ made him feel uneasy. Slowly, he began to shake his head and just _barely_ resisted the urge he had to give her arm a reassuring squeeze. It would not be appropriate.

“I am disappointed in _myself_ , my Padawan,” he said softly. Letting go of her arm, he lifted his hand like he might brush the wound on her cheek, only to drop it back at his side. “You have much to learn in the ways of Soresu, young one. But you are not a disappointment.”

“I cannot learn such a form, Master,” her face was turning red and she’d started shaking her head. The shimmer was returning to her eyes, but Obi-Wan wasn’t sure if it was their natural shine or tears. “I cannot focus the way you do.”

“I will teach you. It is a very complex form, but it can be just as formidable as your Vaapad.”

“You do not understand,” her lashes fluttered and flicked tiny tears down her cheeks. “I cannot… my heart is not peaceful like yours. It never has been.”

“You believe my heart to be peaceful?” He gave an odd little half-smile, tilting his head curiously. “You have known me this long and you do not think I have had similar struggles?”

“I _know_ the struggles you have had, Master Obi-Wan,” blowing out a breath, Iza sat down hard on her bedroll and ran her palm over her tightly bound hair. “But you are not the same as you once were.”

“You do not know that.”

“I do not wish to argue,” running the tip of a finger against the mark on her cheek she winced and shut her eyes. “I forgive you.”

“I have not yet apologized.”

“You do not have to.”

“My dear friend,” crouching, Obi-Wan set the bottle of whiskey aside and put himself in her line of sight. “Of _course_ I do. Regardless of whether or not we were training, my goal was not to harm you.”

“What is this?” Ignoring him, she reached for the bottle and picked it up, turning it in her hands.

“Not for you,” he took it back and set it out of her reach. “Iza, do not—”

“You hurt me, Master Obi-Wan. But it was part of the lesson and I cannot dwell on these things and neither should you.” Iza fixed him with a pained look like she was pleading with him to drop the subject. “I have forgiven you, my Master. Do not let this weigh so heavily on your heart.”

He stared at her, wondering for a moment if she’d had a conversation with Quinlan while he’d been gone. This certainly sounded like his influence. Then again, maybe she was learning. The times she went away to hide from him, she often came back and claimed to have been _meditating_. Perhaps there was some truth to this; perhaps she’d spent her time reflecting? He realized he could not argue with her. He had to accept her words and follow her example and let this go. Offering a faint smile, he lowered his gaze and nodded.

“Very well,” he got to his feet, taking the bottle with him.

“Will you at least tell me what that is?” She asked, pulling his attention back to her. Looking at the bottle of amber liquid, then back at her, Obi-Wan snorted.

“ _Not for you_.”

~*~*~*~

Obi-Wan was confused when he rolled over the next morning to find that Iza was not on her rock. The sky was turning a faint pink color as the sun rose and there were still stars out; it was early enough for her to have started her exercises by now. Turning over to look at the cave he found that she was not there either. Quinlan was fast asleep on his bedroll, snoring away like always. Flipping back the light blanket he had draped over him, Obi-Wan sat up and looked around, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He was almost too tired to try and find her signature in the Force, but he was concerned. He had yet to wake up and not see her out on that damn boulder. Getting up, he thought about calling out to her but didn’t want to wake Quin. The man was a damn nightmare when woken up before he wanted to be, and unless he truly could not find his Padawan, he didn’t want to disturb him.

Not bothering with his boots, Obi-Wan started down the south bank of the river. Tentatively, he reached out into the Force for any sign of the girl. There was a faint flicker of something familiar nearby, but he was not yet awake enough to concentrate on it to fully identify it. It would be a good place to start, at the very least. Following where the signature had come from, he realized it was taking him out to where he’d been practicing with Iza the day before. The closer he got to the area, the more he became aware of the soft hum of a lightsaber. As he climbed over the swell of a hill to the flat area, he spotted her.

Iza held the starting stance of Soresu, much lower to the ground than he might be when he took up the stance; it wasn’t a bad form, really. She was smaller and it would give her more momentum in her movements. He watched her take a deep breath before she started swinging the blade, twisting her torso and holding poses like she was pretending to block an invisible opponent. Occasionally, she’d sweep the saber a little too high or too far away from her body and leave herself open, but she made up for it with the vicious way she twirled the weapon around her. Really, all of the practice with the training staffs seemed to have done a lot of good. Perhaps they needed to discuss getting her a second saber that she could connect at the base of her current one? That would likely lead into her needing Jar’Kai lessons, which he could provide as well if she desired them; they needed to at least get through Soresu first.

Obi-Wan folded his arms over his chest as he watched her, silently scrutinizing her technique. She was sloppy, but that was to be expected. He recognized some of the moves she employed as ones he personally favored. Once or twice, he caught her flicking the hilt of her saber over her knuckles in the same cocky manner he tended to do before she’d give quick swipes of the blade that hacked down the longer bits of grass surrounding her. And then, she was deactivating the saber and rolling it over her knuckles again, pausing as her back went rigid and her shoulders tensed. Twisting, the brunette stared at him like she’d been caught doing something she wasn’t supposed to and he felt her panic as though it were his own.

“Master Obi-Wan,” her fingers tightened around the hilt of her lightsaber and she seemed to struggle for something to say. “I…”

“You lied to me,” moving from his spot, he did not frown or scowl at her as he got closer. If anything, the look on his face was that of gentle admiration. “You said you could not focus well enough for this form.”

“Master,” Iza dropped her gaze for half a second before bringing it up again. “It is not a lie. I find it very difficult to maintain my focus.”

“You seemed to do well just now,” he waved a hand. “You need some work, but you certainly have the basics of momentum down.”

“I did not have a true opponent. It’s different when there is another person in front of me.”

“Let me go get my lightsaber and you shall have an opponent.”

“Master,” shifting her weight from foot to foot, Iza hesitated. “I am not sure—”

“Do not move,” he held a finger up and started back the way he’d come. “Lower the power on your weapon and wait for me.”

“You make me nervous.” She blurted, stopping him in his tracks. When he turned around again to look at her, Iza was pretending to study the power flow switch at the bottom of her lightsaber. “It is no lie that I can’t focus. Even now I was having trouble maintaining a clear head. But you… you make me nervous, my Master, and I lose what little focus I _do_ have.”

“Nervous?” He couldn’t fathom how. “Iza, why would—”

“I do not wish to make you anything but proud. You perform so well in this form that I feel almost ashamed of the way I do it. I know you would see my flaws and want to correct them, but I want to correct them _before_ you see them and…” Iza exhaled hard, tucking her braid behind her ear. “I fumble. I forget the things I know. I look so foolish. I do not want to look foolish in front of you, Obi-Wan— _Master_.”

He would not acknowledge her slip of the tongue, far too concerned with her apparent anxiety over his thoughts on her faults. Eyeing her, he shook his head.

“You understand that I am not judging you when we are sparring, don’t you? If I point out a flaw, it is not to make you feel foolish. I want you to learn, to grow, to know the form as well as I do.”

“I apologize,” she bowed at the waist lightly. “But Master Windu never allowed me to spar against him unless I’d perfected his lessons first. I am not used to being taught directly.”

“You are not Master Windu’s Padawan anymore, Iza. You are mine.” He did not mean to sound so frustrated. “We have been together nearly a month now. Surely you have begun to work past some of these anxieties?”

“I’m sorry.”

“I do not want your apology.” He shook his head and fixed her with a hard look. “I want progress. I grow tired of these excuses, Padawan Tacor. You have said yourself that you are a grown woman. All of _eighteen_ that you are. You should behave more like an adult if that is how you wish to be treated. No more excuses, no more hiding when you are upset with me, no more bringing up how different Master Windu’s teachings were. I am _not_ Master Windu. And I will not stand for this any longer. Is that understood?”

“Yes Master,”

“Good. Now, you will wait here while I get my lightsaber.”

“Yes Master,”

He could feel that strange ache in his belly he always seemed to get before she’d run off and hide from him. Obi-Wan wondered if he’d been a bit too harsh. Working his jaw, he heaved a sigh and shook his head at himself. No, he would not yield to her this time. She needed to learn her place. He was not always going to coddle her; she would never learn that way. Still, seeing the way she stared down at her toes like a child who’d been scolded for raiding a sweets jar _did_ make him feel just a tiny bit guilty. It would not change his mind, however. Turning on his heel, he started back towards the camp, halting when he—quite clearly—heard her voice in his head.

_Please do not hate me._

The ache in his stomach shot straight up into his chest and made it difficult to breathe for a moment. Had she truly thought his refusal of her apology meant that he _hated_ her? He had only brushed it off because it felt as though he’d heard it a hundred times, same as the excuses. He knew she just wanted to make him proud of her and he admired that—he honestly did. But the girl was too damn eager to please and not putting enough effort in to show it. He knew he could not expect her to have perfected his lightsaber form in the short time she’d been in his care, or expected _many_ of the things he had yet to teach her. But he did not think it too much to expect her to have stopped making excuses for her apparent lack of focus. Maybe they needed to return to the Temple sooner rather than later. Maybe it would do her some good to be surrounded by her peers again. Perhaps, if there was no minor progress in the next few weeks, they would go back. For now, he was content to remain here where it was much easier to allow her to enjoy simple freedoms that she would not have on Coruscant.

 _I do not hate you. Please do not think such things of me_.

He wasn’t even sure she would hear him. He had no idea how she was even speaking to him this way. If she could put simple thoughts like this into his head, what else was she able to do? He had half a mind to ask Quinlan if this was part of the Force bond. He had never had a communication bond like this with Master Qui-Gon, however. Or, perhaps he had and he’d just never known. In any case, his inquiry would have to wait. He had a lesson to give and not a lot of time before the sun would be up and begin heating the area up. He would like to do this before they both keeled over from heat exhaustion.

~*~*~*~

“Are you sure you do not want any?” Quinlan asked from where he sat beside the fire, sipping whiskey from the single mug Iza had at the camp. Obi-Wan looked over at him, then back over his shoulder at his Padawan who lay sleeping on her bedroll. Shaking his head, he turned his attention to the fire and tore off a piece of meat jerky to pop it into his mouth.

“It would be inappropriate.”

“You and your professionalism,” giving a hard roll of his eyes, Quinlan scooted closer and gave Obi-Wan’s shoulder a nudge with the mug. “Just have a little bit. You might actually relax for once.”

“I cannot, Quinlan.”

“What is with you?” Tilting his head, the other Jedi made a face. “You’ve gotten a bit stuffy over the years but you seem to have gotten _worse_ since we got here.” Taking a sip of the whiskey, he gestured to the girl sleeping behind them. “Don’t tell me _she’s_ the reason you’ve decided to go _Master Yoda_ levels of responsible on me?”

“Even you cleaned your act up when you took a Padawan, Quin,” tearing off another piece of jerky, Obi-Wan snorted. “I seem to recall you were even wilder than you are now.”

“It was different. Aayla was a kid. I couldn’t act like that around a _kid_.”

“Iza is not as much of a grown up as she thinks she is. She has much to learn of adulthood.”

“Perhaps she should stow away to Mandalore for a little while,” Quinlan grinned slow, dodging the piece of jerkied meat Obi-Wan threw at him. “Maybe she’ll get her chance at _learning adulthood_.”

“That is _not_ what I meant.” Obi-Wan felt his cheeks heat as a scowl twisted his handsome features. “Do _not_ bring that up again.”

“When was the last time you saw the Duchess, anyway?” Sucking down what was left in the mug, Quinlan twisted to grab the bottle and grunted when something hit him in the head. “ _Ow_ —it was a question!”

“Do not speak of Mandalore or the Duchess again, Quinlan.” Obi-Wan warned, sounding like he might throw something other than pebbles next time. After a minute or two, he huffed and turned to look at him. “Give me the bottle.”

Raising an eyebrow, Quinlan passed it over and watched the other Jedi take a long swallow. Obi-Wan made a face at the burn and smacked his lips lightly before taking another drink and passing the bottle back. He said nothing as he wiped his mouth on the back of his wrist and glared out at the water.

“I’m sorry, Obi,” Quinlan said after a while. “I forget sometimes,”

“At least someone does.” Twisting again to pick the bottle up for another deep swallow, Obi-Wan eyeballed the liquid and shook his head. “This is a terrible idea.”

“Is it ever a _good_ idea to drink this stuff?” Chuckling, the Kiffar took the bottle back to splash more of it into his mug before capping it and setting it aside. “In any case, _you_ should not have any more. You have a Padawan to worry about and she should not see you hungover.”

“I _do_ worry for her, Quin,” Obi-Wan mumbled, settling back in the sand with a heavy sigh. “I am beginning to wonder if I am somehow hindering her progress.”

“How so?”

“I don’t know. It’s difficult to explain.” Waving a hand, he tucked it behind his head and gazed up at the stars. “She told me the other day that I make her _nervous_. I make her lose her focus when we’re saber training. And after seeing the things I saw, I could not find fault in her words.”

“Okay…?” Quinlan was having a hard time following and he wasn’t sure it was the fault of the whiskey. Obi-Wan had a horrible tendency to _babble_ when he was buzzed and while he may not have had much of the liquor the stuff was a bit on the strong side.

“You should have seen her, Quin. She was…” he shrugged, the stupidest smirk lifting the corner of his booze laden lips. “She moves so beautifully when she thinks no one is looking. Her Soresu form is sloppy at best, but she _tries_. She is so… fearful that I will see her flaws and say something cruel to correct her.”

“You have told her that you’re not Master Windu, right? That you would not do such things?”

“Of course I have.” Picking his head up to look at the other man, Obi-Wan frowned. “I have asked her to stop comparing me against him.”

“Has she?”

“She has not spoken to me much since, actually. I fear I may have been a bit harsh with her.” Sitting up again, Obi-Wan gestured towards the bottle and got a look in return. “One more will not hurt, Quinlan. You can go offworld and get more.”

Sighing, the other man passed the bottle over and pretended not to see his friend swallow down more than he ought to. Obi-Wan had the terrible problem where once he got started he had a very hard time with _stopping_. Quinlan was going to have to bury this bottle if he wanted to save any of it for himself.

“She thinks I hate her.” Rubbing a few stray drops from his chin, Obi-Wan let out a snort. “All because I’ve asked her to stop giving me excuses for her behavior and to stop _hiding_ from me. It’s absurd.”

“You need to allow her privacy, Obi-Wan,” Quinlan’s voice took on a serious tone as he leaned forward to look his friend in the eye. “She will not come to you for guidance if you are so insistent.”

“She may have as much privacy as she likes.” The Jedi turned his hands up and shrugged. “I simply do not want her to shut me out when she is upset with me—which seems to be _always_ , I might add. I do not recall her ever behaving this way with me before.”

“Women are different creatures, my friend.”

“You sound like Master Qui-Gon.”

“He said the same thing to me when I was having trouble with Aayla,” giving a sort of half smirk, he shrugged. “I had no idea what he meant for the longest time.”

“Well what the hell _does_ it mean? Because I would like to know.”

“Obi,” Quinlan paused long enough to finish what was in his mug before setting it aside. “That is not something I can help you with. No two women are the same. Surely you have figured that out on your own at your age.”

Obi-Wan heaved a frustrated sigh and rubbed his hands over his face, looking up at the sky again. For a long time, he just sat in his thoughts, bouncing from one to another until his mind became too unfocused to concentrate on anything constructive. Grunting when Quinlan nudged his shoulder, he looked back over at him and quirked a brow silently.

“I will go offworld tomorrow for supplies. I am getting tired of eating rations and fish. I want real food.” He was slurring slightly but appeared to be mostly in his head. “You and your Padawan should spend some time together. Take care of this problem you seem to think you have.”

“We do not have a problem, Quin,” turning in his spot, Obi-Wan nearly tumbled to the side when his head spun. Nope. Drinking so much of the whiskey had _not_ been a smart idea at all. “I just do not understand what it is I am doing wrong. Have I not been kind? I want so much to be a good master for her, but she is so… it is like she does not want to be my Padawan at all. It hurts my heart, Quin. She was so happy when I told her and now—I don’t know _where_ that girl has gone.”

Quinlan sat with his hand half covering his mouth as he studied his friend for a long while, taking in the sight of his pained features. He radiated a sense of hurt that was too deep to be simple frustration. Quinlan wondered if Obi-Wan even recognized these things within himself sometimes. Upon second thought, he was sure the other man could not even recognize them in _other_ people, so asking him to do the same for himself was a joke. It was tragic, really. Breathing a soft sigh, he gathered his thoughts to the best of his ability before he spoke.

“You have been a good master to her, my friend. You have done very well in your short time with her. Do not let her uneasiness frustrate you. It will not last. You will see that girl again.”

“He has broken her spirit, Quin,” the sadness in his friend’s eyes made Quinlan’s chest hurt. “I fear that is why she behaves the way she does. You do not see the way she shuts herself down when she believes me to be angry with her. It’s like someone has taken the stars from her eyes. I cannot handle it when she looks at me like that. I want so badly to comfort her and I know that I should not. It would be so… so terribly inappropriate. But she is my _friend_. Is it so wrong to want to comfort a friend?”

Quinlan was not sober enough for this. He was also not drunk enough for this. He could not properly give Obi-Wan the advice that he wanted without another drink and he doubted that the other man would mind. The bottle was out and opened and pressed to his lips in a matter of seconds and he was not surprised when the other Jedi took it from his hands. He would not fight him if he wanted it; he seemed to need it more than _he_ did at the moment.

“Obi,” he spoke slow, trying to calculate his words before he said them. He needed to be careful about this. While he did not tend to follow the Jedi Code as strictly as some, he knew how important it was to his friend. Suggesting things to him that might throw him off balance after he’d worked so hard to get where he was now could prove disastrous. “You are allowed to comfort her as a friend, even as her mentor. You just need to take care that you keep to that boundary, my old friend.”

Obi-Wan looked over at the sleeping girl for a very long time, occasionally taking small sips from the bottle in his hand until Quinlan finally took it away. He didn’t fight him; he knew he shouldn’t have had so much in the first place. As he drew his bottom lip into his mouth to lick the remnants of whiskey from it, he let out an almost pained sigh and shook his head.

“She has become so lovely, Quin,” he whispered, his shoulders sagging. “Every time I say something or do something that upsets her, I hate myself. I hate myself for bringing pain to such a lovely girl.”

“Obi,”

The other man swiveled his head in Quinlan’s direction and found his friend staring at him with, quite possibly, the most serious expression he’d ever seen on his face in a long time.

“You must not allow those feelings to take anchor in your heart. Let them out. She is your Padawan now. You cannot hold onto her this way.”

Obi-Wan let out a short laugh.

“You say it like I have a choice in the matter,” he waved his hand in Iza’s direction. “I cannot simply look at her and think the same sort of filth as you and toss it into the Force, Quinlan. She is not an _object_ to be ogled. She is _my_ Padawan— _my friend_ —and I must care for her. I cannot help what form that care takes.”

“You _must_.” Quinlan would not acknowledge his quip. Starting a fist fight right now would _not_ be ideal and he knew it. “You are a Jedi. You are her Master, Obi-Wan. You speak so intently of what is appropriate and what is not— _this_ is not appropriate, my friend.”

The other man seemed to become confused—almost _distraught_ —by this. He stared at Quinlan with glassy eyes and tunneled his fingers into his hair, pulling at it lightly as he shook his head. He let out a sound that appeared to be a laugh, though it was very difficult to tell whether it actually was one or not. It could very well have also been some sort of strangled sob. Judging by the way he pressed his palms to his eyes and rubbed at them, it was most likely the latter. His head swiveled on his shoulders again to look back at Iza, still sleeping peacefully without a clue as to what was going on around her. She looked so sweet. The picture of innocence, even. That damn welt across her face had darkened over the last few days as it healed, but she’d refused to let him help it along so it wouldn’t scar. She had refused to let him do much of anything aside from instruct her. They had not had any quiet conversations over that ragwater tea she liked to make, and she seemed to keep _talking_ to a minimum in general unless it had to do with the day’s lesson. She spoke to Quinlan more than she spoke to him and that did not sit well with him at all. Not in the least bit.

“Obi,”

“I am the one who has broken her spirit.” He whispered, dropping his hands back into his lap. “She trusts me so deeply and I have ruined her.”

“You have done no such thing.”

“You do not see, Quin. You do not _feel_ the things I feel.” Obi-Wan shook his head and immediately regretted it when the ground began to sway beneath him. “She will look at me as though I am a monster. I feel how cold she becomes, how sick with sadness. I do not know where she goes when she hides, but I wish she would let me follow.”

“I see enough, Obi.” Quinlan could do nothing but sigh as he watched his friend’s head droop, his eyes beginning to follow. If the Force was kind at all, it would put him to sleep and not let him remember _any_ of this in the morning. It would be better for everyone if these things were not brought up again. “Get some rest.”

“Yes,” he nodded, looking around as if he wasn’t quite sure where his bedroll was. It was a bit dark and he was having some trouble seeing straight. He was sure that the flat mass he saw just a little to his left was where he needed to be, but when two big hands began to help him to his feet and steered him to the right instead, he found that he’d nearly laid himself on top of the garbage sack. He grunted when he was set down on the bedroll, murmuring his thanks as he settled down along the length of it. He did not know where his blanket was but it was warm enough that it didn’t matter. He could hear Quinlan heave a sigh overhead before the man turned to go back to his own bedroll.

“This is why I stopped drinking with you, Obi,” the other man muttered. “Your heart bleeds too much.”

“You are the one who insisted.” Obi-Wan reminded him, feeling himself starting to drift as the ground beneath him rocked and swayed as though he were on some sort of water vessel.

“That will teach me. Perhaps those mushrooms would do better for you.”

“That is an even worse idea, Quinlan.”

“You should live a little, Obi. If the girl survived, you will too.”

“You’re a terrible influence,” turning over onto his other side, Obi-Wan blew out a breath when the world spun right along with him. “Go to sleep.”

“You do not need to tell me twice.”

~*~*~*~

Obi-Wan did not know whether it was the smell of something sour that woke him, or the cold drip of water down the side of his neck. Neither were pleasant, but nothing was worse than the headache that pounded in his skull upon regaining consciousness. The sunlight was hot and so damn bright that he didn’t want to open his eyes to face it. He jerked at the press of a wet cloth against his face, however, and felt his stomach lurch when he sat up a little too quickly. His head spun with the telltale whiplash of a hangover and he was confused for a few moments when he realized he was not on his own bedroll, but the one inside of the cave. Quinlan was nowhere to be seen. He had no idea where his damn tunic was. Flicking his blurred eyes around the camp, he rubbed the sleep from them and turned slightly when the Force made him aware of the presence sitting just beside him. Iza knelt beside the bedroll with a wet cloth in her hand and a look of deep concern on her sweet face. After a moment of just staring at her, Obi-Wan cleared his throat.

“Hello,”

“You got sick,” she gestured her free hand towards where his bedroll usually sat. There was a spot in the sand that was wet with vomit; his, clearly.

“So I did,” he felt foolish, irresponsible. Getting drunk with Quinlan had been a damn stupid idea. “I’m terribly sorry to have troubled you, my dear.”

“Master Quin has gone,” Iza turned and dipped the end of the cloth into a bowl of water before she gently pressed it to the back of his neck, causing him to flinch as some of the water rolled down his bare back. “He left before I woke up.”

“He’s gone offworld for supplies,” he didn’t want to admit that the coolness of the cloth felt nice against his skin, but he also felt very strange allowing her to tend to him like this. “He should not be gone too long.”

“Will he be bringing back more drink?”

The accusation in her tone made him smile sheepishly and drop his head forward.

“I apologize deeply for this lapse in judgement, my Padawan. I daresay I had a moment of… weakness last night.”

“You nearly choked yourself to death,” her tone shifted and became a bit shaky. She swiped the cloth along the side of his face and when he turned to look at her, the distress in her features made the nausea in his belly even worse. “I had no one to help me. I did not know what to do for you. I had to turn you on your side and…”

“My girl,” what a dreadful man he was. What an absolutely laughable excuse for a master, as well. To watch the way her face screwed and became such a deep shade of red caused something deep inside of his chest to ache terribly. He could feel her panic and the fear she’d had over whether or not he would wake up. What a foolish, irresponsible, abomination of a man he was.

“I thought I would lose you.” Something like _shame_ started creeping into her features as she started to cry and she surprised him by not looking away. “I was so scared. I know I should not have done what I did. But I had to help—my Obi-Wan, _I could not lose you_.”

“What… did you do?”

Iza turned away from him then, dropping her hand back into her lap.

“I used the Force in a way I should not.” She whispered. “I could not clear your airway with my fingers. I had to… _please_ understand that I did not know what else to do. I could not let you _die_.”

He could not scold her. He would _not_ scold her. While it might be true that using the Force for such reasons was frowned upon—especially since she so clearly had done so for reasons that could be considered _selfish_ by some—he could not find it in him to reprimand her for it. It was something he would have done for his master, after all. There had been many times when he had healed Qui-Gon when he had not been asked to assist, and he most certainly had used the Force for selfish reasons in the past as well. He might as well spit in her eye if he were to tell her she’d been wrong to save his life. He might’ve been a horrible fool of a man, but he was not a cruel man.

“Thank you,” it sounded so absurd to _thank_ her for what she’d done. There had to be a better way to show his gratitude than this. “I, quite literally, owe you my life.”

“Do not make such jokes.”

“No jokes, my dear,” he tilted his head to try and get her to look at him. When she seemed to refuse, he raised a hesitant hand and brushed a bit of loose hair off of her forehead. “I am so sorry to have done this to you.”

“As you should be,” she glanced at him from the corner of her eyes and pressed her lips together tightly to stop her jaw from wobbling. “I expect such behavior from Master Quin, but not you.”

“I am not perfect, Iza,” he couldn’t help smiling, though it softened some as a stray tear rolled down the girl’s cheek. Giving a soft hum, he brushed it away with a crooked finger and nudged her beneath the chin. “Let us not dwell on this, my Padawan. You may have your time to feel upset, but I think it best that we do not hold onto it.”

“Yes Master,” she nodded slowly, turning to set the cloth back in the bowl. After a moment or so, she took a deep breath and let it out in a shivery sigh, bringing her hands up to dry the leftover tears. Neither of them spoke for a while, content to just sit and look out at the river. Obi-Wan’s head still pounded with the dreadful headache, but he would not complain. He felt he had no right to. He had brought this upon himself and considering what had happened, he was getting off easy with a simple hangover. His attention was drawn back to Iza when he realized she was moving around beside him again and he tilted his head to watch as she rooted around in her rucksack for something. A soft snort escaped as she produced one of the meal bars and held it out to him and he took it with a small nod of thanks.

“I suppose this is probably a good idea.” Tearing open the wrapper, he took a small bite and made a face. She was right; these things were terribly bland at times.

“I apologize for removing your tunic.” Iza said, pulling her knees to her chest to rest her chin against them. “It was filthy.”

“That’s quite all right. I suppose it’s better than leaving it on.”

“I’ve washed your bedroll as well. Both ought to be dry by sundown.”

“I deserve to sleep on the rocks after this, I think.” Snorting, Obi-Wan coughed a bit when the dry bit of meal bar didn’t go down quite right. “Darling, would you hand me the canteen?”

Iza didn’t move. Not immediately. When she appeared not to have heard him, he gave a light nudge and watched her shake herself out of whatever stupor she’d been in and twist to grab the requested canteen. Handing it to him, she hesitated before getting to her feet, taking the bowl and cloth with her. Obi-Wan did not need to reach out into the Force to know she was closing herself off to him. Her body always became so strangely tense before she did it. It was the only tell he had to prepare himself for hours of the cold shoulder.

“What have I done?” He asked, watching her stop in her tracks.

“Nothing Master,” she glanced back at him and he was surprised to see the shimmer still present in her eyes. There was a bit of a flush on her cheeks as well, upon further inspection. “I was just going to rinse this out.”

“Oh,” perhaps he’d read her body language wrong? He was _very_ hungover, so it was quite possible that he’d done just that. “Very well.”

“I would like for you to rest today, Master Obi-Wan,” Iza said as she knelt beside the water and began rinsing the cloth and bowl. “I can practice alone.”

“If I’m to take the day off, so are you.”

“I will go gathering, then. Master Quin has eaten clear through the fruit supplies and I’ve got no idea what has happened to all of my herbs.” Wringing the cloth out, she stood to drape it across the rock beside Obi-Wan’s drying tunic, shaking her head. “Your friend is a very kind man, Master, but he can be a menace.”

“Quinlan Vos has _always_ been this way, my dear,” Obi-Wan smiled at the light frustration in her voice. “He used to be worse, in fact.”

“I remember,” Iza gave him a look. “He drove so many of the Masters crazy.”

“You two seem to get on pretty well in spite of your fussing,” he’d finished his meal bar but didn’t trust his legs enough to get up and toss the wrapping away. “Have you found common ground?”

“He’s a good melee combat partner. I do not like being paired with other Padawans for such things. They lack the challenge of experience.” After a moment, she turned a hand up. “He also has a fair amount of wisdom in that crazy head of his. It nearly rivals _yours_ , Master.”

“You jest,” Obi-Wan stared after her as she wandered into the cave to put the bowl away, looking almost offended.

“Do I?” The smile on her lips was playful. “He has taught me many things already.”

“What things?”

A brow went up high on Iza’s forehead and he swore that smile got wider before she turned away from him. Crouching to get into her rucksack, Iza shrugged and gave a nonchalant tilt of her head.

“Just… _things_.”

“Padawan Tacor,” he didn’t know why he felt such a strange sense of irritation over this. But he had known Quinlan Vos long enough to know that the man would not be shy about teaching a girl her age _things_ that she should not know. Be they related to the Force or _otherwise_. “I demand to know—”

“He has shown me things you would not.” Obi-Wan did _not_ appear to like that. The look on his face soured even more and Iza sighed heavily. “I am not trying to get him into trouble, Master, but he has been helping me learn to better channel my aggression.”

“And what makes you believe I would not show you these things? All you must do is _ask_.”

“He _offered_.”

“He is **not** your master, Padawan Tacor.” He was glaring now, the expression twisting his handsome face in a way that made him look near unrecognizable to her.

“Are we not supposed to learn from each other, Master Obi-Wan?”

“I will not have Quinlan teaching you things that will cause conflict with _my_ teachings.” Shaking his head, he set his jaw and threw down the meal bar wrapper. “If there is something you wish to know, you will ask _me_. _I_ am your teacher, not Quinlan Vos.”

“Yes Master,” she was wearing that meek expression of hers; like she was terrified to argue against him. A bitter part of him was glad for it. It made things much easier when she didn’t behave so stubbornly. “May I go?”

Like someone had flipped a switch inside of him, Obi-Wan felt the irritation drain away and he looked up to find her picking at her nails. He would not reach out to read her. He really didn’t have to. Nodding, he ran his fingers through his hair and waved a hand.

“You may.”

“Thank you.” Giving a light bow, Iza grabbed one of the empty sacks she used when she gathered the natural foods from the area and rushed towards the mouth of the cave to leave. She got about halfway down the sand bank when she stopped and turned to look back at him, a soft look on her face. “Please get some rest, my Master. I will be back soon.”


	4. What a Wicked Thing to Do

Obi-Wan was unsure how long he’d been asleep for when he became aware of a panicked presence nearby. Sitting up on the bedroll, he rubbed at his face and stared out of the cave opening to find Iza rushing around outside, gathering things in her arms to drag them inside. At first, he was confused. It appeared to still be daylight out, though much darker than it’d been when he’d fallen asleep. The air was cooler and smelled damp—like rain. _Oh_. Using the wall to brace himself, he got to his feet to stumble out and try to help her, only to have the brunette shoo him back in.

“I’ve got this,” she dumped Quinlan’s things next to where she’d neatly laid his and went back out to shelter the fire-pit with a large slab of some sort of tree bark. “Sit down, Master.”

He didn’t argue. His head still spun quite violently and threatened to upset his stomach. Dropping onto his rear where he stood, he ran his fingers through his hair and exhaled harshly through his nose. He pressed his fingers against his closed eyes and groaned miserably, lying back on the bedroll. He was never going to do this again. Quinlan could drink whatever it was he happened to bring back all by himself. The man had a better tolerance for these things than he did anyway. He heard Iza continuing to rush around nearby, heard the soft metallic _clunk_ of her setting the power-cell lanterns down on the floor of the cave, and then heard her swear softly before she was running out again.

He laughed. He didn’t know why. Maybe because he hadn’t expected such a word to cross her lips when she spent so much time reprimanding Quinlan for his foul mouth. He grunted when his boots hit his stomach and suddenly, he was not laughing anymore.

“That was not necessary,” he groaned, pushing them off. He looked up to find her holding an armload of things with a sorry expression on her face and wondered if perhaps it had been an accident. She didn’t say anything; she only ventured further into the cave to set everything down before casting a look back outside to make sure she hadn’t missed anything. It had already started to rain. Little droplets were hitting the sand and darkening its color. Shaking her head, she ventured over to where Obi-Wan lay on the bedroll and sat down on the floor beside him, taking the boots and setting them elsewhere.

“I apologize, Master,” she said quietly. “These storms come so quickly. I usually do not have so many things to gather.”

“I could have helped.”

“You are meant to be resting.”

“As I have been,” he smiled gently and looked her over, frowning when he noted a collection of lightly bleeding scratches along her arms. “Iza, what happened?”

“Huh?” Lifting an arm to look, she waved a hand. “It’s nothing. Thorn bushes. I must’ve run through some when I was coming back.”

Leaning across her to grab one of the med kits stacked against the wall, Obi-Wan tutted quietly as he opened it to get a packet of medical wipes. He heard her draw in a breath to start protesting and lifted his gaze to level it with hers, silently challenging her to say a single word about it. Iza pressed her lips together tightly, worked her jaw, and then looked away. She didn’t fight him when he gingerly took hold of her arm and began to dab the shallow scrapes with one of the wipes.

“Careless girl,” he scolded softly, moving on to another part of her arm. “Is this where the other scars came from?”

“Other scars?” Looking back at him, she raised an eyebrow.

“Mm,” tapping a finger against the one on her shoulder, he gave a half smile and went back to cleaning. “You have others, too.”

“That scar is old.” Covering it with her hand, Iza shifted her gaze again. “And I told you already that I have fallen down the mountain several times. If there are scars, it is possible that is where they came from.”

“ _Careless girl_.”

“And what of your scars, Master?” Green eyes leveled with his in the same challenging manner he’d done only minutes ago. “Were yours the result of something _calculated?_ ”

“Which ones, my dear?” His smile never shifted, though _something_ behind his eyes changed. “I have many.”

“Pick one.” She turned when he gestured for her to give him the other arm, flinching when the antiseptic burned one of the deeper scratches.

Humming quietly in thought, Obi-Wan continued the slow dabbing, crumpling the wipe to grab a fresh one. After a moment or so of silence, he turned and gestured lightly to a smattering of long, deep lines along his back that had long since gone white with age. Looking at her again, he shrugged his shoulder and raised the wipe to swipe a bit of dirt from her cheek.

“These are reminders of _my_ carelessness.” This girl must’ve run through a marsh. There were flecks of mud all over her skin. He distracted himself while he talked by gently cleaning them away from the places that were appropriate for him to do so. “You were not yet in the Temple’s care at this time, but I was sent off to the Agricultural Corps for a while. I made a mistake, heard some things I was not meant to hear, and I was punished for it.”

Obi-Wan regretted having said anything when he saw how sad her eyes became. Perhaps he should have picked something a little more lighthearted, like the mark on his thigh where Quinlan had once whipped him with a training saber that had been set too high. Still, he smiled and continued to sweep away the little dots of dirt and muck, doing his best to ignore that sorry look on her face.

“I got into a fight with another Padawan.”

He picked his head up and blinked, knitting his brows together curiously. Surprisingly, she had not looked away like he expected her to. She looked a bit sheepish, but seemed unwilling to break eye contact.

“A fight?”

“He would not stop saying horrible things. About… about you.” Pressing her lips into a thin line, she looked away for half a second and then looked back. “He’s jealous. He always talks of how you’ve only been knighted because you _killed a Sith_. As though you haven’t worked harder than anyone I know to achieve your knighthood. As though _killing a Sith_ isn’t an amazing feat on its own.”

“Iza—”

“I should _not_ have done it. I know I should have just ignored him and let his jealousy doom him.” She scowled lightly, focusing on something over his shoulder instead of his face. “He began making accusations. Saying things— _crude_ things. He told people that I must be _doing things_ with you if I was defending you so heavily.”

“Is this the Padawan you threw the flower pot at?”

“Yes.” She swallowed hard and finally ducked her chin. “He has been saying such things for a long time. Someone else began saying that I was doing those things with Padawan Skywalker and he made such a _vulgar_ comment that I couldn’t… I just threw it. I don’t remember doing it. He lunged at me and we fought. _Really_ fought. Our lightsabers were still at low power because of our lessons, but he’s notorious for keeping his a few notches above the training setting.”

“This is a _lightsaber burn?_ ” Obi-Wan could not explain the sudden rush of anger he felt. It had come with the overwhelming sense of needing to protect her from this little bastard boy. He had no idea who he was, but he would find out.

“There are several. I did not win that fight.”

He let out such a heavy rush of breath that it made Iza’s braid sway against her shoulder. He found he could not look at her directly. The burn from his lightsaber seemed so much darker now and put a sick feeling in him. What she must’ve thought when he’d struck her; had he reminded her of that boy? He certainly hoped not. She had to know that he would never do anything to cause harm like that—for _any_ reason. He could not even dwell on the kind thought that she’d half been defending him. All his mind wanted to focus on was the idea that she’d been punished for defending _herself_ , something all Jedi were taught from very early on was _okay_ to do.

“Master Obi-Wan?”

Shifting blue eyes back to her, he frowned lightly at the worried expression on her face. That was not right. She should not be looking at him like that. She should not always be so distressed over what his thoughts were. His focus shifted to the mark on her cheek and he could feel his features softening. He did not want a scar marring her face as a reminder of _his_ mistake— _his_ carelessness. It was not too late; he could correct this. Without a word, he lifted a hand and rested his palm against the wound, feeling her flinch at the touch. Her eyes grew wide and she started to lean away only for him to follow and bring the other hand up to brace it on the side of her neck to keep her in place.

“Master—”

“It’s all right. Do not be frightened,” he closed his eyes and focused, pulling from the Force and breathing deep as he pushed every ounce of himself into mending the mark. He could feel the quick, heavy gusts of her breath against his chest as she seemed to struggle not to pull away from him. Obi-Wan knew the process was not causing her harm; there would be gentle warmth and nothing more. What _he_ did not expect to feel was the hot trickle of tears rolling over the back of his hand. It caused a subtle lapse in his concentration—though he managed to recover it—and made his mind briefly question what she could be crying for. He felt his head starting to spin as time passed and soon, he was opening his eyes to find her staring at him with those starry green eyes of hers filled to the brim with endless tears. He lifted his hand away and found nothing but the tiniest of pockmarks where the wound had been before. It was much better than what would have been left behind if he’d let it heal naturally. He smiled, but she did not return it.

Iza’s breathing was so heavy and harsh, interspersed with the softest whimpers that he barely heard over the sound of the rain. He was in such a daze from expending so much of his energy that he could not think to ask what might be wrong. He only frowned at her lightly and tilted his head, allowing the tip of a finger to slide down her cheek alongside the path left behind by her tears. She startled him horribly when she practically rocketed to her feet and ran from the cave out into the rain.

“ _Iza?!_ ” It took him a good thirty seconds before he could find the strength to even get to his feet. Maybe this had not been such smart thing to do when he was still so weak from his hangover. Finally finding his footing, he turned to follow after her, chasing the footprints she’d left in the sand. The girl was damn fast and she had the benefit of knowing the area better than he did, but it was not long before he was streaking after her through the grassy field they used for their Soresu practice. The rain made it difficult not to skid every couple of feet, especially when he pushed himself to his limit and sped up to catch her. His chest hit her shoulders hard enough to knock the wind from them both, arms going around her tight to sweep her off her muddy feet. The momentum had him sliding forward onto his knees and they both sat there panting for a long moment before Iza began pulling at his hold.

“Master— _please_ ,”

“You promised,” he set his dizzy head against her shoulder in an effort to still it, feeling her tense and twist weakly. “No more hiding.”

“Let me go.”

“I will not.”

“ _Let me go_.” She was pleading now, pulling forward until his head slid between her shoulders and she leaned so far out of his arms that her nose nearly brushed the tops of the long grass. When he refused to relinquish his hold, Iza sucked in a deep breath and let it out in a soundless sob that wracked her form. “You _must_ … _you **must** let me go_.”

Why did he feel as though he’d been here before? Weak and dizzy and confused; sick to his stomach with a feeling of dread so overwhelming that he couldn’t breathe? Why did he know this dark place in his head so well? Was it even _his_ head anymore? Pressing his face against the damp material of Iza’s tunic to try and ground himself, he breathed in deep heaves of his chest and tightened his grip when the rainwater allowed her to start slipping free. _No_. No he would not let her run again. She would not learn if she did not face the things that had been brought to the surface. He had seen the shame and the anger in her eyes when she spoke of the things that boy had said and what she’d done. She needed to acknowledge them as _he’d_ acknowledged them—and **_she_** needed to let them go.

“Master Obi-Wan,” she swallowed thickly and twisted in his hold again. “You’re hurting me.”

“Will you run?” He breathed against her skin, feeling her shiver.

“No.”

“Promise me,”

“ _I promise,_ ” she sounded so desperate. He wondered if she would have promised him anything if it meant she would be granted her release.

“I am putting all my trust in your word.” He began to relax his hold so it was not so tight and the girl sagged forward with another one of those silent sobs, her hands coming up to cover her face. He was not sure when her hair had been shaken loose, but the wet twist of her bun fell against his face where his head lay in the middle of her back. They sat there like that for a long time while the rain poured down on them and soaked them clear through their clothes. Iza would do nothing but cry no matter how many times he attempted to speak to her. Obi-Wan had given up trying after the third or fourth try, choosing instead to just shut his eyes and lean against her. He needed to rest. His head swam so horribly and he felt incredibly weak from using so much of his energy to heal her wound. As long as she did not try to run, she could cry as much as she needed to.

She could do _anything_ as long as she did not run.

~*~*~*~

Iza felt dazed as she stared into the yellow glow of the power-cell lantern. Carrying Obi-Wan back to camp had been exhausting, but not as exhausting as trying to fight him from clinging to her. He did _not_ want to relinquish his hold and continued to babble on about how she’d _promised_ not to run and hide from him. It did not seem to matter to him how many times she assured him that she would not leave again, he simply would not let go. So now she sat propped against the wall on her bedroll with him asleep beside her, his head on her shoulder and his cloak draped over him to keep him warm. She wondered if perhaps this was some strange side-effect from having saved him earlier in the day. She had used a lot of her Force energy to connect with him and encourage him to cough up the sick that had gotten caught in his lungs. Iza herself had not felt very well ever since, but she’d done her best to maintain as much normalcy as she could throughout the rest of the day. As she shifted her gaze from the lantern to her master’s sleeping face, she wondered if maybe he was just _tired_ in general. He too had given up a lot of his energy to heal her face. He had not needed to do that. She wished she knew what had come over him so suddenly that made him decide to do it.

He had become so oddly emotional when she revealed how she’d gotten the scar on her shoulder. She was glad she hadn’t told him the one on her belly had been a penetration wound from that same fight. She would hate to see what sort of things that might pull from him. It was not as though _she_ hadn’t felt a heavy sadness when he explained the scars on his back. Her mind had clearly pictured him in his youth—not that she knew much about what he’d looked like back then—terrified as he cowered from the blows being dealt upon him. It made her heart sad, especially since he seemed to take the situation so lightly. She knew from her days of listening to him talk of his adventures with Master Qui-Gon that it certainly was not the most perilous of situations he’d ever been in, but he’d been a _child_. He had been in the Agriculture Corps, not a Padawan. There was such a strong difference in her eyes even if those who were sent away had received much of the same training as the other younglings did. Iza had to shake the thoughts from her head. It was hard enough trying not to dwell on the way he had held her so tightly out in the field. Dwelling on his painful adolescence would do her no good, either.

The brunette felt him shift beside her and thought he might be waking. He was not. Obi-Wan simply readjusted the way he was propped against her side and nestled his cheek deeper into her shoulder. The ends of his beard tickled her skin and caused little goosebumps to spread down her arms. It was getting too long; he needed to trim it. His hair needed a trim too. The long strands kept falling into his eyes all the time and he refused to tie it back. He claimed he’d had enough of wearing it pulled back as a Padawan and she supposed she could not blame him for not wanting to revisit the style again. Iza wondered why she had never noticed how long his eyelashes were. Fanned out against his cheek as he slept, they only added to his beauty. He shifted again, pressed closer; his head drooped a little and several pieces of his long hair fell across his forehead. The old, familiar ache began in Iza’s chest the longer she stared at him and she felt that horrible need to cry again. She was surprised she even had any tears left. She had spent so long sobbing out in the field. Tentatively, she raised a hand and carefully brushed the hair back, pausing when he made a soft sound and sighed in his sleep. It was still such a shock to think that she had nearly lost him that morning. That thought made the ache in her chest worse and she felt her jaw tighten painfully, her throat following suit as the burn of tears blurred her vision.

She could not stay in here. She needed to let this out somewhere he could not feel her pain. Sweeping her fingers through his hair again, she drew in a deep breath and spoke softly.

“Master Obi-Wan?”

Nothing. She tried again, louder.

“Master Obi-Wan,”

She got a grunt and a light stir of his head. It took a moment before he inhaled sharply and looked up at her, eyes at half-mast and red with exhaustion. He grunted again in question and blinked slow.

“May I go for a swim?” She tried to keep her voice as even as possible and offered a sweet smile. “I promise I will not go far.”

Obi-Wan stared at her while his brain processed the question and for a moment, she was pretty sure he was going to decline the request. He gave another round of deep, sleepy breaths and nodded slowly before sitting up straight enough to let her get to her feet. As she did, he reached up and took hold of her hand, startling her. Looking back down at him, Iza opened her mouth to ask what he needed, but he only studied her with those tired eyes. Then he was leaning forward and pressing his forehead to her knuckles, fingers tightening around hers briefly before he released her.

“Be safe,” his voice was soft and raspy with sleep. Iza damn near broke right then and there and fought so hard against a sob that she thought her lungs might explode in her chest. She would never know what possessed her to brush her fingers through his hair, but it pulled his attention to her and she smiled and nodded down at him.

“I will.”

He grunted again, satisfied. When Iza had stepped away, he settled down along the bedroll and closed his eyes again. The brunette waited until she was sure he had at least started to fall asleep again before she hooked her thumbs in her borrowed trousers and shimmed out of them. They were already soaked through, but swimming in the heavy linen was dangerous. Her underclothes would do just fine. Setting the trousers aside, she wandered out into the rain and waded into the river. Night would be falling fairly soon and she knew it would not be safe for her to be in the water. She would need to make this relatively quick. With one last glance back towards the cave, she heaved a sigh and pushed out into the swift current, following it out to one of her favorite spots where she could cry and release these horrible feelings in peace.

~*~*~*~

The sounds of heavy, choppy breathing pulled Obi-Wan from his dreams. He could not even begin to recall them as soon as his eyes fell on the golden yellow glow of the lantern light on the cave wall, but he knew they had been pleasant. The air was much cooler than it’d been before and the rain sounded like it was falling harder than before. He was hungry. He had no energy to get up and dig a meal bar from one of the bags, however. That strange breathing sound drew his attention again and he rolled over onto his side to find Iza standing near one of the small space heating-units that he hadn’t even remembered bringing in from the starship. She shivered from head to toe, arms folded over her chest while she stared down into the orange glow of the caged coil. It took him a moment before he realized she was in a state of undress that should have had him turning over again to give her privacy. He wondered why she was not wearing trousers. She would be much warmer if she would put them on. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he remembered that they’d spent a great deal of time in the rain that afternoon; her clothes were likely still very wet. The trousers would do her no good.

The subtle movement of her shifting her legs caught his eye and brought his attention back to her again. He could not help the way he admired the curve of her thighs and the way they seemed to perfectly support her rounded backside. She looked so soft. Even though he knew how strong the muscles were beneath her skin, she looked so lush and supple to touch. He had to stop thinking these things. He was becoming as bad as Quinlan and with the way they were bonded he did not know whether he would accidentally send her such thoughts. What she would think of him if he did. He was her master, her _teacher_. Having such thoughts was inappropriate and forbidden. Setting his jaw in an effort to quell these thoughts, he let his eyes flick up to her face and saw she did not appear to notice that he was awake. She was still so focused on the heater coil while she occasionally rubbed her hands along her arms and shifted her legs that he must’ve been the last thing on her mind.

As his eyes adjusted to the brightness of the light on her face, he noticed her hair was down. She must’ve taken it down for her swim. Another glance had him noticing bits of foliage stuck in it. The longer he studied her, the more worried he became. Her feet and hands were muddy. Her belly had the beginnings of a bruise flaring across it. Both of her knees appeared to have been scuffed. She was not studying the light; she was in some kind of shock.

“Iza,” he felt horrible at the way she started and gasped and watched her turn those wide eyes to him. Tilting his head as much as he could where he lay, he frowned in silent question and got the weakest of smiles in return.

“How are you feeling, my Master?” She asked in that quiet way she did when she did not want to address something. “May I get you anything?”

He knew the concern was quite blatant in his features, but she would not break. She simply stood there shivering so hard he worried she might accidentally knock the heater over. After a long moment of just staring at one another, Obi-Wan shook his head and flipped back the corner of the cloak that covered him.

“Come here, you silly girl,” he should not offer such a thing, but she needed to warm up before she began turning blue. That pitiful heater would do nothing for her. He was surprised when she did not argue with him and crossed the space of the cave, settling next to him on the bedroll and bringing a sort of iciness with her that chilled him instantly and made him worry even more. He covered her with the cloak and pulled her tight against his chest, rubbing a hand along her back in an effort to speed up the warming process. He was unsurprised when she refused to look at him, though he did not expect her to tuck her head beneath his chin the way she did.

“I was careless.” She whispered, shoulders shivering with cold. “I did not expect the current to be so quick.”

“Be quiet,” he did not want to hear this. He did not want to put more anxiety into his chest. He was so tired of all the constant worry over her reckless behavior. She would age him ten years in less than two months at this rate. Shaking his head as he vigorously rubbed his palm along her side he huffed out a frustrated breath and paused before drawing her in even closer, holding her tight. He skimmed his hand up her back and threaded his fingers in her wet hair, bowing to press his face to the crown of her head. Her shoulders shook again and he knew that it was not because of the cold. The warmth of her tears against his skin gave her away. He was glad she would not feel the tears that fell from his eyes and soaked into her damp scalp. Obi-Wan did not know what he might do if she saw him display such fear.

“Master—”

“Go to sleep,” he breathed, sliding his free hand out from beneath her to wave his fingers and turn the lantern off. He would leave the heater; they both needed it.

“ _Obi-Wan_ ,”

He closed his eyes and exhaled harshly through his nose. He wished she would not say his name—not like that. It did terrible things to his heart when she did. Taking a long moment to collect himself he tucked his chin against the top of her head once more and sighed heavily.

“Let it go, my girl,” he blinked tears from his lashes as he said it. It was so unfair. So _kriffing_ unfair. “You must let it go.”

~*~*~*~

_She was dizzy. So dizzy._

_Warm hands moved slowly along the sides of her thighs, grasped them, parted them. The determined press of hips that followed made her mewl and twist on the bedroll helplessly._

_The soft scratch of facial hair on her neck caused her breathing to quicken even before the damp heat of lips burned her skin. Those hands were moving higher and higher on her torso, grasping soft flesh and playing with the hard peaks until she cried out again._

_Teeth dragged along her collarbone, his breath whispering things she couldn’t understand. His tongue touched her skin and set her whole body on fire. His lips moved lower, latched onto an aching tip, sucked greedily until she was pulling his hair and squeezing her legs against his hips._

_Warm gusts of breath fanned out across her chest as he chuckled low. His mouth found hers and claimed it for himself. All of her belonged to him._

_A hand was wedged between their bodies. Deft fingers slid slowly along sensitive flesh and she arched, keening as her toes curled. He whispered that she was **his**. She did not argue._

_She did not know where their clothes had gone. She only knew the hot, heavy press of his chest against hers and the slow way he arched his hips until they were one. **She was his**._

_He was careful and mindful of her needs. He said pretty things that made her heart swell in her chest and tears run down her cheeks._

_She felt so complete with him. There was no one else. There would never be anyone else. **His**._

_Her whole being ached and tingled and burned and she saw stars she’d never seen in the blue of his eyes. She smiled. He smiled back. She reached to touch his face and he kissed the tips of her fingers as they brushed his lips._

**_Hers._ **

_“My Obi-Wan…”_

Iza sat up with a sharp gasp, drenched in sweat and horribly confused. The thick material of Obi-Wan’s cloak sat pooled around her waist, but the older Jedi was nowhere to be found. Something ached low in her pelvis, dull and sinful. It was hot. The sun was out. She didn’t know what time it was. Shaking fingers tossed the cloak off and it took a bit of effort for her to get to her feet. She gave absolutely no thought to her state of undress as she moved swiftly out of the cave and straight into the river outside. The freezing water shocked her blistering skin and upset the scrapes she’d sustained the night before when she’d been swept away by the undercurrent upstream. She would stay in the shallow area as she ducked under, coming back up for air and pressing her palms against her face as she tried to make sense of the things she had just experienced.

Nothing had happened. She had fallen asleep next to Master Obi-Wan and that was it. There had been no sinful act, no inappropriate behavior from either of them. He had given her a comforting embrace and offered her his warmth. That was all. She did not know why her mind had conjured such a dream. Even with the sweet things she felt for him, she had never had such thoughts before. Iza would not say she was a _pure_ person, but things like that were not of importance to her like they might be for someone else. But— _oh_. Reflecting on the idea of doing such a thing with him made her shiver. Perhaps that was just the water. It was quite cold in here. Frustrated with herself, Iza ducked under the water again. When she reemerged, she forced her thoughts to focus on where he might be. She would have liked to have woken up beside him. Maybe he had felt some sort of regret in letting her sleep next to him? The horrible thought that she might have somehow projected that dream onto him suddenly ran through her head and Iza damn near put herself under again. Had it not been for the sound of heavy boots stomping through the brush, she might’ve done just that.

“Morning, little one!” Quinlan looked to be in good spirits as he carried large bags full of supplies on his shoulders. Behind him, Obi-Wan trailed along with bags of his own. He looked at her standing in the water and raised an eyebrow, though he said nothing and made his way into the cave. _Did he know?_

“Come help put these things away. You get so very fussy about organization.” Quinlan joked, setting his bags down before looking around at the camp. “Where are my things?”

“There was a storm,” Iza mumbled, coming out of the water slowly. She ignored the wide-eyed look she got when the man realized she was in her underclothes and crouched to unzip one of the bags. She felt a gentle tap on her shoulder and looked up to find Obi-Wan holding out his spare outer robe and her sash. Taking it with a soft murmur of _thanks_ , she pulled it on and tied it closed before going back to unpacking. She did not see the way Quinlan stared at Obi-Wan or the way the two men seemed to have a silent conversation over the top of her head.

“A storm?” The other Jedi mumbled, trying to keep the first conversation going as he eyed his friend. He knew Obi-Wan well enough to know that he would not cross boundaries that he shouldn’t. But the Padawan seemed too comfortable to be dressed this way around him. Something felt _odd_.

“Just a rain storm, Quin,” Obi-Wan shook his head, scowling. He knew what the other man was thinking and he would not have it. Everything that had gone on in the cave the night before had been perfectly innocent. He had fallen asleep beside that girl and he had woken up with her nestled in his arms. There was nothing immoral happening here.

“I see,” Quin had to trust his friend. He had to trust that he knew him well enough to know that the other man would not behave so inappropriately. Taking a deep breath, he let it out slowly and nodded, turning to look down at Iza when he saw her turning bottles of liquor over in her hands. Letting out a short laugh, he started to say something and reach for them when the girl got to her feet and shoved past him, taking the bottles with her. “ _Hey!_ ”

Iza ignored him, stomping through the brush leading to the second cave. She heard him following her and broke into a run, rushing through the shallower part of the river towards the bend where the cliff was. She would not have this foul drink at her camp. She would _not_ be made to witness Obi-Wan nearly lose his life again. As her toes were sinking into the mud on the opposite bank, she felt a hand wrap itself in the robe she wore. Quinlan swore at her and she lurched forward, tugging free of the oversized piece of clothing and continuing on as fast as her feet would carry her. When she reached the bend, she heaved the first bottle over the edge with a yell and heard him cuss again. A set of strong fingers clamped down over her wrist before she could toss the second and he yanked her back hard enough to make her stumble.

“What are you _doing?!_ ” He grabbed for the bottle and she clumsily whipped it out over the edge, shouting when it stopped mid-air. _No_. No she would not stand for it. Throwing her free hand out, she reached into the Force with every bit of her anger and all of the fear she’d felt the day before and she felt Quinlan struggling to pull the bottle closer while she tried to push it away. She focused, held her breath, _screamed_ ; her hand tightened into a fist and the bottle exploded, sending liquor and shards of glass raining down over the cliffside.

“ _Iza!_ ” Obi-Wan had caught up to them, but she ignored him. Reeling on Quinlan—who seemed frozen with shock—she pounded a fist into his shoulder and pushed at him. This snapped him out of his stupor and had him holding her away at arm’s length, which did not help much. She beat her fist against his arm and kept yelling until he grabbed the front of her under-tunic and gave her a shake.

“Have you gone _thermal?!_ What the hell is wrong with you?”

“ _He almost **died**!_” Iza slapped her hands against his chest, sobbing and drawing in panicked breaths. She kept hitting him until her arms grew so tired that she could only grasp the front of his tunic, yanking at it weakly. “He almost _died_ because of your _kriffing_ poison! I will not… I will _not_ have it…”

“Give her to me,” Obi-Wan waded over and gathered her from Quinlan’s grasp, trying his best to ignore the startled look he was getting from his friend. Wrapping the robe that had been discarded during the chase around her shoulders, Obi-Wan lifted her from the water and turned to start carrying her back to the camp.

“Obi,” Quinlan called after him, following slowly. “ _What happened?_ ”

“It does not matter,” he said lowly, trudging against the current. “If you have more of the drink, get rid of it.”

He would. There was another bottle of whiskey and some sweet wine he’d brought as a gift for the girl. He would discard both of them. Quinlan was not sure which shocked him more, however; the idea that his old friend had nearly met his end due to the liquor, or the sheer amount of Dark Side energy he’d felt from that girl when she’d exploded the bottle. He could see why her former master was wary of her using such a power, and perhaps why she needed to cease her Vaapad lessons. Quinlan was no stranger to using powers he should not. He sometimes toed the very fine line between the Light and Dark Side of things, but he never crossed the boundary. This girl was often so mild and meek that he would never have thought her capable of such a thing. Even during their playful combat sessions she never seemed terribly aggressive. Clearly, he was wrong. Up ahead, he could hear Obi-Wan talking quietly to her, reassuring her that she would be all right. Poor kid; she likely was not used to the aftermath of pulling from the Dark Side. He supposed he could count that as a _good_ thing.

When they’d reached the camp, he immediately went to the bag holding the two remaining bottles and wandered off to dispose of them. He would not bother Obi-Wan and his Padawan. He would simply stay quiet and unpack the supplies and allow them their privacy.

Inside of the cave, Obi-Wan had sat down on the bedroll with Iza still cradled in his arms. He was unsure of what to do. He felt that scolding her would make things worse. She likely knew that she should not have drawn from that side of the Force. He tried to think of what Qui-Gon might do in this situation and then decided _not_ to do that. Qui-Gon would have left him to stew in his suffering as punishment. He’d had one apprentice fall to the Dark Side already; having a second even bat an eyelash in that direction would have driven him insane.

“Are you disappointed in me, my Master?”

“No.” He did not know if he ought to be. He knew what her former master would have said in his place but Obi-Wan did not hold the same opinions as Master Windu. He agreed, perhaps, that Iza should not have acted quite so irrationally. But she had not harmed Quinlan—he doubted she could, honestly—and seemed to understand she should not have used that power. But then—he also knew he should not allow her to think that behaving in such a way was excusable. She should know better by now. It did not matter what reasons she had; she should have found a different solution to the conflict.

“You’re lying.”

He gave a short laugh, hanging his head. This bond was going to be the end of him.

“It is not a lie, my dear.” He adjusted her in his arms, and then set her down between his knees on the bedroll. “I simply find myself conflicted. I hold no discontent towards you.”

“You are never disappointed in me,” she tilted her head to look at him, eyes curious. “Why?”

“Should I be?”

“You have forbidden me from speaking about what I must in order to answer that.”

He tutted and gave a nod. That was fair. Studying her face for a long moment, he gave a light smile and leaned his head back against the wall of the cave.

“You remind me so much of myself. You are so eager—perhaps a bit _too_ eager.” Humming, he gave a light brush of his knuckle to the underside of her chin and shook his head. “My girl, I know I ought to scold you for your behavior, for using such abilities. But my mind keeps circling back to the thought of how terrified you must’ve been. I cannot… when I would gladly give my own life for my master’s, I cannot punish you.”

“You saved him,” she set her head against his shoulder, looking tired. “Master Qui-Gon boasted so highly of your heroics. I have never seen a prouder master.”

“You were but a child,” he teased, giving her a look. “What do you even remember of that?”

“It was _not_ that long ago,” Iza made a face and huffed. “Five years is _not_ long, Master Obi-Wan.”

“It feels like an eternity to me.”

“Will we have our own adventures, my Master?”

“If we ever leave this planet, yes,” chuckling, Obi-Wan breathed a deep sigh and glanced towards the mouth of the cave where Quinlan sat with his back to them. If he was listening in, he did not make it obvious. “I do believe we should return to Coruscant soon.”

“Must we?”

Turning his attention back to the brunette, Obi-Wan’s brows went up high on his forehead in surprise. Blinking as his mouth fell open he started to draw in a breath like he might say something, and then exhaled through his nose. He understood why she didn’t want to go back. It was much easier to live out here without feeling as though one needed to follow such strict living guidelines. Even he had moments where he felt suffocated by the Temple, which was part of the reason he kept himself busy with assignments. This little excursion had thrown him off entirely and now he would have to adjust to bringing her along on his missions. It was one thing to go with another experienced Jedi; another entirely to have a Padawan who had, to his knowledge, not had quite so many opportunities to join her former master. Pursing his lips, he sighed again.

“I will make a deal with you,” straightening the robe resting around the girl’s shoulders, he held his finger up. “We will stay until the end of the month, _but_ —you must work hard on your Soresu lessons. If we are to have adventures together, you must be able to use the basics. I cannot be in two places at once, my dear girl. Your Vaapad will not protect you so tightly. Do we have an agreement?”

“Yes Master,” she nodded. There was the tiniest of flushes coloring her cheeks. _Odd_. Perhaps the robe was too warm for her.

“Good.” He smiled and gave her a nudge. “Now, go get dressed. We will take another day for ourselves, but I believe a bit of _modesty_ is in order.”

“Yes Master,”

~*~*~*~

“Are you going to tell me what happened?” Quinlan asked as he and Obi-Wan sat beside the fire later that evening. Iza had fallen asleep after supper, leaving the two men to discuss some things in private. Looking up from the mug of tea he’d been sipping, Obi-Wan eyed his friend for a moment and snorted, turning away.

“Is it that important?”

“ _Of course it is_ ,” the Kiffar bit out, looking horrified, “Obi—that is not something to take so lightly.”

“Says the man who nearly handed himself over to the Force because it felt _comforting_.”

“Do _not_ throw that back at me,” Quinlan pointed a finger at the other man and grit his teeth. “You are my friend. I am allowed to be concerned. Just as you were.”

“I suppose I vomited in my sleep,” Obi-Wan rolled his shoulder carelessly and sipped his tea, staring out at the water. “She said I was choking. Enough so that she had to use the Force to help me. I’m unsure of how.”

“You’ve bonded?”

“Yes,”

“She may have found a way to reach into you through the Force and… push it out, I suppose.” Quinlan waved a hand. “It’s not unheard of. Desperate moments call for desperate actions.”

“I don’t know. I don’t care.” He took another drink and shook his head. “All I know is that I scared her enough to make me never want another sip. Her face, Quin—I cannot get that face out of my head.”

“You do not need me to tell you that it would be in your best interest to try.” Sweeping back heavy locs, Quinlan sighed. “But I suppose I would be as distressed as you if Aayla ever saw me in that state.”

“I fear she nearly drowned herself,” Obi-Wan murmured, lips brushing the edge of his mug. “I was exhausted. I should not have let her go for a swim at that time of night when it had been raining so heavily. I awoke to find her… in shock.”

“Is that where her injuries came from?”

“I did not ask. I couldn’t.” He shut his eyes and set the mug down, scrubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. “I cannot handle her carelessness, Quinlan. She treats me as though I’m meant to be treasured, and tosses herself around like she does not matter to anyone.”

“Sounds a lot like someone I know.”

“Do not jest,” working his jaw, Obi-Wan looked over at the other man. “The Padawan she argued with? The one she threw the flower pot at? It was not just in defense of herself. It was in defense of _me_. The little… _bastard_ left scars on her— _because of me_.”

“Obi,” Quinlan was quickly learning that perhaps it had been a terrible idea for his friend to take this girl as his Padawan. The Force was playing a very cruel joke here, pairing them up like this. Clearly, they cared very much for one another in very different ways. To lock them in a role where acknowledging any of these feelings could destroy their lives was downright _sadistic_.

“She cares not for the things she does that hurt her. She talks of falling from that mountain as though it’s nothing more than tripping on a carpet. The girl would lop her own arm off and think it to be on the same level as spraining something.”

“ _Obi_ ,” giving his friend a look when the other Jedi finally stopped ranting long enough to acknowledge him, Quinlan let out a short laugh and waved his hand. “Are you surprised? She spent years with a master who expected her to get up every single time, no matter how hard she fell. I cannot, with a clear conscience, call Master Windu a cruel man, but you know as well as I do that he lives by that _there is no try—just do_ sithspit that Master Yoda does.”

“Master Qui-Gon was not so gentle with me either,” Obi-Wan pressed his lips together in a thin line. “But even he stopped to tend to wounds when it was necessary.”

“You must know when to be firm and when to be caring. It’s part of being a master. Some never find the balance.”

“You made it look so easy,” snorting, Obi-Wan picked his mug up again to finish off the tea inside of it. “Perhaps your natural bond with Aayla _made_ it easy for you.”

“Things were not always as they seemed from the outside, Obi. I struggled with my Padawan too.” Quinlan turned a hand up. “You have only begun your journey with yours and you do not have the benefit of having a youngling. Although—I would argue that perhaps a woman of her age is a slight bit easier to handle than a _teenager_. Teenage females are a kriffing _nightmare_.”

Obi-Wan laughed outright at the look on Quinlan’s face. The man appeared as though he were remembering instances that he would much rather forget, but would never get the chance to. Swearing under his breath, the Kiffar shook his head and glanced back over at the other Jedi.

“I am grateful to not have lost you, my friend. The universe would be a very dark place without you.”

“Quinlan—”

“ _Obi-Wan!_ ”

Both men twisted in their seats at the sound of Iza’s panicked voice echoing in the cave. When a startled cry followed, Obi-Wan bolted up from the sand and rushed inside, skidding as he dropped beside the brunette’s bedroll. She sat straight up against the wall, eyes wide and unfocused. Her hands were blindly searching for something along the surface of the blanket and when she couldn’t find it, she grasped the thick fabric in her fingers and gasped in panic again.

“Iza,” he wasn’t sure if he ought to touch her. He wasn’t even sure she was awake. Licking his lips, he carefully set his hands on her shoulders and watched the way she jolted to awareness. Green eyes stared at him in the dim light pouring in from the fire outside and she reached her hands up to touch his face like she wasn’t sure he was real. It reminded him much of the day he’d arrived. That confused way she’d stared like she was looking at a ghost; it _bothered_ him.

“Obi-Wan,” her breathing picked up until she was nearly panting and she grabbed hold of him, pulling him down until he had to brace a hand against the wall of the cave so he wouldn’t crack his skull on it. The _terror_ he felt radiating off of her made him sick and he didn’t know what to do. With Quinlan outside, he did not think he could hold her. She trembled so hard against his chest, though, and her sobs nearly undid him. _To hell with it_. Winding his free arm around her, he rolled so his back was settled against the wall and carefully collected her onto his lap.

“I have you,” he whispered, tunneling his fingers into her hair as he set his chin against the top of her head. “I have you, darling. It’s all right.”

“You expelled me.” Iza’s whimpering made his chest tighten. The way she pulled at his tunic and seemed to gasp for air only made it worse. “You tore my braid from my head. You said such awful things. You listened to _them_. You _abandoned_ me, my Master.”

“Hush,” Obi-Wan could not hear this. He did not want to hear talk of him being cruel to her, even in her dreams.

“You would not come back,” she seemed to not have heard him. “I called for you and you would not come back.”

“Hush, you silly girl,” he tightened his fingers around the roots of her hair, bowing to rest his cheek against the top of her head. “I would never do such a thing.”

“Please do not leave me,” Iza begged, sliding her arms around his shoulders. “Please stay.”

He did not mean to hesitate the way he did. Obi-Wan simply wasn’t sure of what she was asking of him. At the base, he knew she meant _in general_. But after the night before, after sharing sleeping space together, he was nearly certain she meant she did not want him to leave. This was not a thing he was sure he could grant to her. Not with Quinlan outside, waiting. His friend surely would understand, wouldn’t he? Then again—his friend had been so adamant about him maintaining a balance between being the girl’s _teacher_ and her _friend_ that Obi-Wan was no longer certain of anything. Her arms tightened against his shoulders and her breathing picked up again and he couldn’t take it. He was so utterly weak for her when she was in such distress that he would bring whole stars down for her if it made her happy.

“I’ll stay,” already he was sliding sideways down the wall, trying to find a way to settle down on the bedroll without having to disturb her too much. He would have to sleep in his boots. And with his belt on. Perhaps that would reassure Quinlan that this was not the situation he believed it to be. Turning onto his back, he kept her clutched against his chest and blindly reached for the blanket. He did not know if he ought to take comfort in her warmth or her weight like he did, but he was going to anyway. Pushing his fingers through her hair, he looked up at her and used the corner of the blanket to dry her cheeks before he smiled. “I will not leave you, my girl.”

Iza looked like she wanted to say something. She did not. She only shifted and settled against him more comfortably and nestled her cheek deep in his shoulder. Her breathing slowed and evened out and soon, she slid back into sleep. Obi-Wan could only lay there and stare at the ceiling of the cave. His hand smoothed over her hair in idle passes as he contemplated what sort of trouble this might cause him. A shadow was cast along the wall of the cave and he lifted his head to see Quinlan standing at the mouth. He could not read the look in his friend’s eyes. He was unsure if he was being judged. What had he been expected to do? He could not sit and let her suffer without causing suffering to himself as well. Quinlan had to understand this.

“Is she all right?” The softness of Quin’s voice surprised him. Obi-Wan fully expected to have been scolded or, at the very least, had his friend turn away in disgust. Nodding, he glanced down at the girl sleeping reasonably peacefully once more.

“I think so.”

“Are you to sleep in your boots, then?” There was a hint of a smile in the other man’s tone. It made it a little easier for Obi-Wan to breathe.

“Unless you wish to remove them for me—yes.”

“I suppose I can grant you that favor.” Shaking his head, Quinlan came further into the cave and knelt to help his friend out of his shoes. Once he’d set them aside and pulled the blanket down over his feet, he seemed to fall deep into thought. Sucking his teeth lightly, Quinlan rose and cast a look at his friend. “Be careful, Obi.”

“It is not how it appears, Quin,” the other man insisted, glancing down when Iza stirred on him and nudged her face deeper into his chest. He thinned his lips, brushing the hair off her face as he shook his head. “I could not leave her to suffer.”

“I know,” Quin nodded, repeating— “ _Be careful, Obi_.”

Obi-Wan looked back at him, absorbing the warning for what it was. He knew he ought to consider himself lucky that it was Quin and not someone else in his company. Even Master Qui-Gon would have thought something to be amiss if he saw him now. He did not know if there was a single other being in this universe who understood quite like Quinlan. He was grateful to have him as a friend. Giving a solemn nod, he saw the shadow on the wall move away. Sighing deeply, Obi-Wan shifted on the bedroll, careful not to disturb the sleeping girl too much. Tipping onto his side, he cradled her carefully in his arms and smiled at the irritated sound she made at being jostled. He did not know what possessed him to press his lips to her hairline. The touch was brief and chaste and he scolded himself internally the moment he made contact with her skin. He would not do that again. He _could not_ do that again.

As he waited for sleep to come, he studied her face. He had committed her features to memory at this point and yet—there were faint freckles dusting her nose and cheeks he swore he’d never seen before. He supposed he had never quite noticed how soft her mouth looked. It was not something he _should_ notice, honestly. With all of the pouting and pursing she did, he would have thought that _maybe_ he’d taken note of how full her lower lip was. Or that her upper lip had the tiniest of scars near the bow at the top. He found himself wondering what had happened. What sort of careless thing had she done to earn that? He wished he didn’t feel such a strong urge to know what those soft lips felt like pressed to his own. It was exactly the kind of thought that Quinlan had been trying to warn him against. _Be careful, Obi_.

He distracted himself from those thoughts by allowing his eyes to fall on the braid tucked neatly behind her ear. He found it interesting that the girl did not have beads or colored ribbon woven through it. There were little knots of thread marking various spaces of length and to keep it bound at the ends. Even he had used colored threads to keep his tied. This could not have been part of Master Windu’s teachings. Padawans were allowed to choose their own personal décor for their hair and could choose what colors they wanted their robes to be. He would not restrict something like that. Perhaps he would ask her in the morning, if he remembered. Absently, he raised a hand and curled the ends of the braid around the tips of his fingers. He had an odd flashback of being around her age and the vicious way he used to tug at his own braid when he became nervous. He had seen her fidget with her robes and her fingers before, but he also seemed to recall a time when she had the same habit. He had advised her to find a different outlet and leave her hair alone. Did she want to end up with the habit when she was an adult? He could not remember how old she was. Young; young enough for his influence to have worked, apparently.

“Please don’t,”

She startled him horribly and he immediately released the little braid. Letting out a rush of breath, he looked down to find her staring at him with tired eyes. He did not know when she’d woken up. Perhaps he’d tugged without realizing it? Offering a warm smile and a slow shake of his head, he tucked the braid back behind her ear where it belonged and settled his arm around her again.

“I will not. I’m sorry to have woken you.”

Iza seemed to almost be stuck half in sleep as she looked at him. Her breathing was strangely uneven, but she did not appear upset. The light sheen of sweat on her brow made him wonder if he ought to flip the blanket off for a while. It was not terribly cold in the cave, and she _was_ a bit on the warm side. But before he could ask, she was moving in his arms and tucking her face up against the curve of his neck. He should not have allowed her to do that. He should not have allowed her to run her fingers along his bearded cheek. He should not have allowed her to run those same fingers into his hair where they stayed, lazily twisting in the strands and sending the wrong kind of shivers down his spine. Reaching up to gently take hold of her wrist to stop her, he shut his eyes against the whine that followed and curled his fingers around hers.

“You mustn’t, my dear,” he didn’t even know if she was awake enough to realize what she was doing. There was a very good chance she was still dreaming. Force help him, he had never been more curious about another person’s dreams in his life. Thankfully, she did not fuss much. She simply heaved an irritated sounding sigh and held tight to his hand. He could grant her that. As he listened to her breathing even out once more, Obi-Wan wondered if he would get any sleep that night. He had a terrible feeling he would lie awake waiting to see whether or not she would do something else that she should not.

 _Be careful, Obi_.

He would surely have to heed Quinlan’s warning after this night. He did not know what would become of either of them if he did not.


	5. Tear Me to Pieces

“Are you all right, my Master?”

Obi-Wan stared up from where he lay in the grass, trying to get his bearings. Perhaps offering to go a few rounds with these training staffs had been a poor decision on his part. He was well trained in combat with them, but he’d seen the girl whip them around blindfolded. Clearly, she had some kind of advantage here. He supposed neither of them had expected for things to get so out of hand, either. They had both discovered how competitive and aggressive one another could be once Iza had begun showing him the basics of Vaapad. He had countless bruises on his shoulders where she’d struck him with her saber and she’d grown used to the sting from his blade as well. No longer did they dance around the worry of hurting one another. This was _training_ ; it was not serious combat. Well—it never seemed to start that way. The longer they went, the harder they seemed to fight. He could see why Master Qui-Gon believed them to be so similar in nature. They were both stubborn, refused to acknowledge injuries, and attacked so aggressively that it teetered on the fine, dark line they were meant to steer away from.

He had not expected her to be so damn _strong_. The way she swung the staff around as though it was not three heads taller than she stood was impressive. Her hands worked so fast that he often did not have time to register which way they were spinning it. By the time he did, he was usually on the receiving end of a hard swing and had little time to do much else but make an attempt to block her attacks. Being so well trained in Soresu helped him there. He could keep a tight circle of protection around himself and keep her from landing too many blows on his person. She had a nasty habit of sweeping his feet out from beneath him, however, and often tricked him by tapping at his ankles and then striking against his shoulders while he was distracted. Quick like a blaster bolt she was, twisting this way and that to confuse him. Sometimes she’d roll across his back with a breathless laugh like she was mocking him. But she was not without her own faults. Her cockiness often left her open to quick cracks of his staff against her legs and torso. He’d accidentally caught her across the backside at one point; he could still hear the startled way she’d yelped. The look on her face had been quite comical as well. He had been hit twice as hard for that and he supposed he’d deserved it.

When they were really neck-deep in the battle trance, they’d circle one another slowly. Twirling the staffs around their knuckles and staring each other down while silently challenging the other to make the first move. He always knew when she would be the first to strike out. Her chest would begin to rise and fall at a faster rate and she’d whip the staff around so quick that he worried she’d smack herself in the head with it. There was always a shift in her features, too. A tiny squint of her eyes, the softest curl of a smirk at the corner of her lips. She would duck her head and _charge_. This time had been no different except that Obi-Wan had not expected her to dart off to the left of him and swing from the right. The staff had clobbered him somewhere below his ribs and knocked the wind straight out of him. He’d stumbled back into the grass where he now lay and she’d poked the end of the staff against the center of his sternum with a fair amount of force, demanding that he yield to her. Really—he would not want to fight her in a serious combat setting.

“I’m…” he was breathing and nothing _felt_ broken; he was alive. “I’m fine, my Padawan.”

“I did not mean to hit so hard.” She sat down beside him on the grass and leaned over to inspect the welt she’d left on his skin.

“I assure you,” Obi-Wan laughed weakly and ran his fingers through sweat-damp hair. “I have been hit much harder.”

“That is not reassuring _at all_.”

“I only need a moment to recover,” waving his hand dismissively he settled it over the bruised area on his side, rubbing it absently. “Would you be a dear and get the canteen?”

“Of course, Master,” using the staff to pull herself back onto her feet, Iza bounded over to where they’d left their water canteen and lightsabers sitting atop Obi-Wan’s discarded tunic. She gathered the entire thing to carry it back over to where he sat, turning to find him sitting up with one hand on his side and the other rubbing over his face. His bare shoulders were tense and he seemed to struggle to get a decent breath into his lungs. She watched the way he pounded his fist against his knee and felt her heart sink. She’d hurt him. She’d _actually_ hurt him. Fumbling the things in her arms, Iza shook herself free of the stupor and rushed back over. His head turned as she came closer and he flashed a soft smile as though she hadn’t just seen him struggling to breathe.

“Thank you,” he reached for the canteen she held out. A tiny twinge of pain twitched at the corner of his eye, but still he smiled. And he called _her_ careless. Setting their things down in the grass, Iza knelt down and set her hands on her lap, forcing herself to look elsewhere. If he thought she couldn’t hear the way he breathed in such short hitches, he was wrong. In between the long swallows of water she clearly heard the quick, harsh lungfuls he tried to take. She knew saying something would result in an argument. He would insist he was fine. He would not allow her to help. He had insisted that she was no longer allowed to expend her energy healing superficial wounds on him. If they ever found themselves in a place where he was in dire need of assistance, then she had his permission. Trying to heal something like this would see him becoming _severely_ cross with her. Looking over when she felt him nudge the canteen against her arm, she glanced at it and shook her head.

“No thank you.”

“You feel very restless, my girl,” capping the canteen, Obi-Wan set it aside in the grass and tried not to cringe too much as he leaned back on his arms. He would need to spend time meditating before supper tonight; he had a distinct feeling that his Padawan may have cracked his rib. “Surely you are not ready to go again so soon? Do you ever tire?”

“Do you ever admit when you are truly wounded?” She snapped back, turning her head fast enough to make her braid whip over her shoulder. Obi-Wan stared at her for a long moment, though his features did not change. He would have taken a deep breath if he were able to in that moment. Instead, he gave another dismissive flick of his fingers and tilted his head.

“Fair play,”

“You demand it of me to be honest with you. You make me _promise_ not to hide. Yet you cannot do these things for _me_.”

“I am very honest with you,” blue eyes leveled with hers and he pointed at her. “But you are not the teacher, my Padawan. You are not meant to be worried for me.”

“Am I not still your _friend?_ ”

Okay. Two points for her, now.

“My girl,” he sat up as straight as his throbbing side would allow, growling under his breath as he did so. “You must understand that there needs to be a balance here. I can be your friend, but I must be your mentor _first_. This means we must let go of certain… concerns.”

“But _you’re_ free to remain concerned for me? That is unfair.”

“I remain concerned where it is appropriate, Iza,” he shot her a look. “If I continue to worry over every scratch and bruise you receive, I will drive myself into an early grave. You are such a dreadfully careless girl. I wonder sometimes how it is that you maintain such poise when you have your sight taken from you.”

“This is not a simple _bruise_ , Master!” Iza gestured at his torso and scowled at him. “I can see you fighting to breathe. You are so tense with pain that it is beginning to burn _my_ body. If _I_ am the careless one, you are the stubborn old fool!”

“It is not for you to worry about.”

Iza looked like she could have hit him. Like she was going to take the training staff and wallop him right upside the skull to see if he was, in fact, as hard-headed as he was behaving. Instead, she shifted in her spot and turned her back to him, throwing the staff out into the grass. Folding her arms over her chest, she glared out at the field in a manner that should’ve set it on fire. Behind her, she could hear him chuckle quietly. She did not know what was so damn funny about the situation. He was injured. He was being stubborn about even admitting it. He would not allow her to help him even if she begged on her hands and knees. He was so _infuriating_ sometimes. How could he tell her that this was not something for her to worry over? Of course she was going to worry! Did he not realize that she cared for him? Did he not understand that he meant the entire universe to her? He would allow her to use the Force to clear vomit from his lungs, but she could not worry that she’d seriously injured him? _What a damn joke_.

She heard him shifting around behind her and tensed at the feel of his bare back pressing into hers. Shoulder to shoulder, spine to spine. He breathed shallowly while she took deep, angry breaths. His skin was warmed from the sun, a little sticky with sweat and scattered with bits of broken grass. She could feel the ends of his hair brush against her shoulder when a breeze blew across the field. He really needed to trim it. Grunting lightly when he leaned more of his weight into her, Iza nudged back and started to turn her head to look back at him when he spoke.

“You must not be so angry with me,” he let his arms drop to his sides, his head tilting back to rest against hers.

“I am not angry.”

“You are wound up tight like a spring.” Obi-Wan snickered, carefully taking a deeper breath. “Relax. Release the agitation, my girl.”

“You will not let me help you.” Shifting, Iza stubbornly curled forward and bunched her shoulders. “You will not allow me to be concerned. That is unfair.”

“You may feel these things freely. But this is not about _fairness_. You know very well that we must let go of these things when we are done feeling them.”

“I have not finished.”

Obi-Wan laughed outright, the sound reverberating against her back. He turned his head a little to glance at her over his shoulder.

“Are you sure that _I’m_ the stubborn one?”

“I am sure that _you_ are more foolish than I to ignore an injury like _that_.”

“Give me your hands,” holding his back for her to take, Obi-Wan waited patiently. When she did not move, he sighed and shifted to drop his head back against her shoulder to look at her. “Iza, I would like to give you a meditation lesson.”

“I do not want your lesson.”

“Not even if I promise that you will get to help me heal this injury?”

Iza turned her head a little to look at him, looking as though she didn’t quite trust him. Even his gentle smile did nothing to convince her. He gave a tiny nudge backwards with his shoulders and raised an eyebrow to try and goad her, lifting his hands into her line of sight. When she did not budge, he appeared to sigh again and picked his head up from her shoulder, letting his arms fall back at his sides again.

“Very well,” he started to reach for the canteen again when the back of Iza’s hand brushed against his arm, tentatively seeking out his hand. Quirking a brow, he glanced back at her again to find her staring straight ahead. She still felt very tense and upset. He would have to change that. Leaning into her shoulders, Obi-Wan found both of her hands and carefully linked their fingers. “Sit up a little more and relax.”

The brunette shifted behind him, straightening her spine and doing her best to ease the tension from her shoulders. She felt him leaning further into her and frowned, allowing the weight to bend her forward.

“You must support me, my dear.” Chuckling, he gave her fingers a light squeeze. “We must balance each other out. Be each other’s spines. Straighten yourself and try again. This time—lean into me. I will hold you as you hold me.”

“Yes Master,” Iza righted herself and leaned into him as he leaned into her, trying to find the proper balance so they would not topple one another. She settled her head back against his and breathed deep, closing her eyes without prompt. His fingers tightened around hers and he let out a quiet hum, satisfied.

“Breathe slow. Like me. Do not worry if you become dizzy.”

She did as instructed, doing her best to take smaller intakes of breath at the same time he did. It did indeed make her dizzy. So dizzy, in fact, that she started to feel as though she were floating. The warmth of his back seemed to fade away behind her and in a moment of fear, she squeezed his fingers hard.

“I’m here,” he whispered, sounding much farther away than he had before. “Relax. Trust me.”

She did. She trusted him so much. Something warm in the Force surrounded her; surrounded them both. She felt it brush across her skin like a gentle breeze, only slower. It seemed to take its time as it skimmed across the surface of her being, sealed her inside something colored a soft shade of blue. Another layer—this one a brighter, bolder shade of blue—slid over the top of it, seeming to fully complete the seal. Iza watched the colors as they swirled around one another, blending in places and separating in others. It was so calming. Any upset she felt from before was melting away into the light to be tossed away into the Force and forgotten. The paler of the two blue lights took favor of her. It brushed soft, smoke-like tendrils of color over her cheeks and along her shoulders where bruises from the day’s training had settled in as dull aches. It touched her lips and urged her to part them. She did, without question.

 _Breathe_.

She felt Obi-Wan’s back move against hers as they both took the same deep breath. His head tilted back against hers. She pushed back to keep him upright. A soft throbbing had started in her left side in the same place where she’d struck him with the training staff. She breathed in deep again and the throb became a sharp pain. She whimpered, but the sound came out of his mouth instead. _Confused_. She was so confused.

 _Concentrate_.

Iza focused on the blue light again. Focused on the pain. She breathed again. The darker blue light filled her mouth, trickled down her throat; surrounded the aching area in her side. She felt Obi-Wan’s fingers tighten around hers as his shoulders tensed. Iza didn’t know what she was doing, but the light seemed to know. It seemed to know she needed to focus everything _here_. Concentrate her attention _here_. Heal him. Make his pain go away. Take away the hurt she had given him. And so she did. All of her focus immediately went into spreading that light over the injured area until it grew brighter. She breathed deep. He did too. There was no pain. They leaned into each other, the light slowly beginning to slide away and fade back into the Force. Iza kept her eyes closed and continued to breathe at the same pace as her master, feeling oddly peaceful as they sat beneath the sun in the middle of the field. He shifted behind her, started to try and take one of his hands away. She held tight to it and whined quietly in protest.

“Iza,” his voice was firm. “Let go,”

“But Master Obi-Wan…” she did not want to lose this feeling. Would she still be at peace without him?

“We have finished the lesson.”

“There was no lesson.” Iza argued, relinquishing his hand with a light pout. Her head swam when she leaned forward and she had to brace a palm in the grass to keep from tumbling over. “You showed me pretty lights.”

“Drink some water,” Obi-Wan nudged the canteen against her arm, looking mildly concerned. It was hard to appear both concerned and in a state of complete tranquility at the same time. Iza took the canteen and uncapped it, guzzling the water like she hadn’t had a drop in weeks. She ignored what little trickled off her chin, breathing heavily and staring out at the field in a light daze.

“It’s hot,” she mumbled, tipping what was left down her throat. It was actually quite mild out for once. The humidity had gone down a bit over the last week or so. Yet, her skin was slick with sweat and her cheeks were flushed bright pink. She looked like she might pass out if she did not get more water into her soon.

“Hot?”

“ _Hot_.” Capping the canteen, Iza slipped the strap over her shoulder and reached a hand out to draw her training staff to her through the Force. When it was in her palm, she stuck one end into the ground and used it to get to her feet, stumbling a little. Behind her, Obi-Wan had gotten to his feet and put his hands out to keep her from falling.

“Wait a minute,”

“I want to go back,” her eyes were half open, yet she looked like she might clobber him with the training staff again if he tried to stop her. Taking a slow breath, she glanced away from him and started to head in the direction of camp, only for him to loop his arm around her middle and bring her to a halt. “ _Master_ ,”

“What did you see?” He helped her to walk, stopping long enough to gather the other staff, his tunic, and their lightsabers. “You said there was light. What did you see?”

“Just… _light_.” Iza waved her hand and leaned into his side, wondering faintly why he was not as sweaty as she. “Blue light.”

“Dark blue?”

“Light blue. Like your eyes, Master,” she smiled and then made a face. “There was dark blue, but not enough.”

Obi-Wan looked like he wanted to swear. He did not, but he really wanted to. Heaving a sigh, he did his best not to rush her through the grass, though he did want to get her out of the sun. The poor thing was soaked in sweat now and seemed to only be burning hotter the longer they remained out in the open. As they finally made it to the edge of the river leading into camp, Iza lurched forward in his arms and—unsurprisingly—trudged right into the water.

“ _Iza_ ,” he wasn’t sure he ought to scold her or not, but she did not appear to be in the right state of mind for a swim. Frustrated, he set the training staff and other gear down and followed after her, grabbing for her waist.

“It’s _hot_ , Master,” she fought against his hold, slipping free and moving further into the deeper parts of the river with him hot on her tail. As soon as there was nothing but her head above the surface, she stopped, apparently appeased by the depth.

“Come here,” drawing her back against his chest so that she would not be swept away by the current, Obi-Wan held tight to her and frowned. He was really beginning to think showing her the meditation trick had been a poor decision on his part. Unless she had somehow gotten sunstroke within such a short period of time, he could not think of another explanation for this.

“Everything all right, Obi?” Quinlan’s concerned tone had him turning to look towards the shore and he found the other man standing ankle deep at the edge, a frown on his face. Waving a hand at the girl, who had gone quite lax in his arms, Obi-Wan shrugged.

“She claims she’s hot.”

“Do you want a thermal reader?”

“I would like a bottle of water, if you don’t mind.” He could give her a temperature reading when he got her out of the damn river. Assuming she would not throw a fit about it. Looking back down at Iza, he frowned and gave her a little nudge, watching her open her eyes to look at him. “Tell me about the light, Iza.”

“It was warm. Soft. I felt at peace when it touched me.”

“It touched you?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Mm,” nodding, she brought a hand out of the water to gesture to her face and shoulders. Hesitating, she touched her fingertips to her lips. Obi-Wan’s fingers grasped her waist so tight that she gasped in surprise. He had to do his best not to let his anxiety show on his face when she looked up at him with a frown. “What was _that_ for?”

“My apologies,” he could not look at her. “I thought I felt you slip.”

“Here,” Quinlan had waded over with the requested bottle of water and was giving Iza a rather odd look. After a moment or two, he reached out and gingerly cupped the girl’s chin to lift it and study her face. Dark eyes narrowed before shifting to Obi-Wan, a thick brow going up high on his forehead. He didn’t say anything and he dropped his hand when Iza batted at it and made an irritated noise.

“Thank you, Quin,” Obi-Wan shifted the brunette around in order to get the water bottle open, then pressed it to her lips. Iza drank just as greedily as she’d done from the canteen, taking the water bottle from him to drain it down to nothing. When she was left gasping to get the air back into her lungs, Obi-Wan took the empty bottle back and tilted his head to look at her. “Better?”

“No,” she shook her head. “Still hot.”

“I would like a word with you.” Quinlan muttered, giving Obi-Wan a look. “Bring her to the camp.”

“I don’t want to move.” Iza protested, not looking at either of them. “It’s perfect here.”

“You are not the master, little one,” the Kiffar reminded her, getting a damn dirty look when she finally did pick her head up. “You will go where you are told.”

“ _You_ are not _my_ master,” she argued back, leaning back into Obi-Wan’s chest. “You cannot—”

“I have just as much authority over you as Obi-Wan. Do not push me, little one.”

“Quinlan,” Obi-Wan put his hand out and silently asked for the man to give him a moment, waiting while his friend snorted before turning to head back to shore. When he’d gone, the other Jedi sighed heavily and turned Iza in his arms so she would face him. “You must listen when Master Quin tells you to do something. You have not had this problem before.”

“I do not wish to leave this spot.”

“That is not up for argument, my Padawan.” Obi-Wan frowned, noting her cheeks seemed to have gone redder. “Iza—are you feeling all right?”

“ ** _Hot_**.”

“Yes, my dear. You’ve said this.” He furrowed his brow and shook his head. “Hot, how?”

Iza stared at him like he was crazy and just shrugged. She didn’t know how to explain this. It was almost the same kind of blistering heat she’d woken up to a few weeks ago, just without the sinful ache to accompany it. The only thing that seemed to keep it at bay was the water and she did _not_ want to give that up for anyone. Not even her master. She grunted in annoyance when he pressed his palm to her forehead, then his knuckles along her cheeks. He looked confused. He also looked like he didn’t believe her. Well, it was _her_ body and she knew what it felt like. It was hot and she did not know any other way of explaining this to him.

“You may sit in the water at the shore.”

“I do not wish to move.”

“And I said it was not up for argument,” already he was starting to pull her along, fingers digging lightly into her hips to keep her from attempting to slip away. “You must listen, Iza.”

“Master,” she did not want him pulling on her like that. Having him hold so tight to her hips made it feel perverse, somehow. “ _Master Obi-Wan_ ,”

“What is it?” He turned to face her with a scowl and almost immediately, the expression melted away when he caught sight of how wide her eyes were. Perhaps he was being a bit too rough. She was not a boy. He could not haul her around the same way.

“I will go.” She just wanted him to stop grabbing like that. It brought back flashes of that dream and that was the last thing she needed right now. “I will.”

He only nodded, seemingly satisfied that she’d changed her mind about being so damn stubborn. Releasing her, Obi-Wan was a bit surprised when she rushed past him and waded towards the shore, stopping near the boulder she used for her morning routines. Well, he supposed that was close enough. As long as she stayed there, he would not fuss. Coming up behind her, he gave her shoulder a gentle pat as he passed. He thought he felt her tense but hadn’t lingered long enough to be sure. His attention was now focused on Quinlan and what the man could possibly have to say to him. The Kiffar had gone to the other side of the brush where the second cave sat. He stood with his arms folded and his back to the camp, but he lightly turned his head when he heard his friend approach.

“This is your fault, Obi.” His tone was flat, accusing. “She is not suffering sunstroke.”

“Is she not?” Obi-Wan was confused.

“What were you two doing before you showed up here?”

“I…” the other Jedi blinked and shrugged, turning his hands up. “Meditating.”

“ _Meditating?_ ”

“We were combat training before that. She cracked one of my ribs and got upset that I wouldn’t let her heal it.”

“Well, at least you’re finally learning boundaries.” Quinlan scoffed, narrowing his eyes. Never did he think he would see the day where _he_ would be the more responsible out of the two of them.

“I did not want her angry with me,” Obi-Wan was going to pretend that the quip didn’t bother him. “So I offered to teach her a meditation technique.”

“You did _not_ pull that Mandalorian _sithspit_ out of your lesson book. Obi-Wan Kenobi, tell me you have more brains in your skull than that.”

“I did not show her the formal technique!” Throwing his hand out, Obi-Wan brought it up to rub the back of his neck. “I showed her the backbone technique.”

“You are ignoring my advice, my friend. You are toeing lines you know you should not.” Quinlan shook his head as he looked over at Obi-Wan for a moment, and then turned his eyes out towards the water with a growling huff of breath. “To show that girl a _Runi_ without her consent—you are better than this, Obi.”

“I _had_ her consent!”

“She did not know what you were doing, did she?”

“I did nothing immoral! She wished to help heal me. I did not want her to exhaust herself.”

“ _You_ need a very big lesson in not giving in to that girl’s pouting. What are you going to do when we go back to the Temple next week? You cannot behave this way there. You cannot bend to her will the way that you do.”

Obi-Wan knew he was right. He’d been telling himself these things every time he did something he knew damn well the Council would disapprove of. Every time he allowed her to fall asleep in his arms and pretended that it was an accident. Whenever she would argue against him in a convincing manner and he’d let her win. He had started getting better about a _lot_ of things, but there were others that needed work before they got back and he did not know if there would be enough time. Iza would be in for a horribly rude awakening if left unprepared. She likely knew that this could not continue once they were behind the Temple walls again. Perhaps that was why she was trying to get as much out of him as she could while she still had the chance. He truly shuddered to think of what else she might be trying to get that he would not be able to give.

“It was not meant to be like this,” Obi-Wan said quietly, feeling mildly ashamed of himself. “I did not think she would have an after effect like this.”

“You know even the weakest _Runi_ meditation will cause this to happen, Obi.”

“She is not… behaving as though…” he could feel his cheeks heating as he became flustered. “She simply claims that she is hot.”

“Would she even know—”

“Quinlan, I do not have that answer,” Obi-Wan put his hands up and waved them, shutting his eyes like that might somehow block the question out of his head. “Do not ask me such things. I do not need that in my mind.”

“Because it is not in your mind already?”

“ _No_ ,” he rounded on the other man, eyes narrow and hard. “I do not think such impure things about that girl. I am not the same as you. She is my _Padawan_. I could not think those things of her if I wanted to. If _she_ wanted me to. If I am affectionate with her, it is because I care for her as a _friend_.”

“You can stand there with a clear conscience and tell me there is no attraction to her within you?” Quinlan wasn’t convinced. He had heard the way this man rambled over and over again about how torn up inside he was about Iza. His drunken babbling had practically spelled out how _lovely_ he thought she was. If he was going to lie to his face like that and make it believable, then Obi-Wan Kenobi might just be the best damn liar in the entire galaxy.

“None.” Obi-Wan felt strange when he said it. Almost like he shouldn’t say it. “She is still too much of a child.”

Out of habit, Quinlan looked over his shoulder to make sure Iza had not heard him say that. The little Padawan had a horrible habit of knowing when someone even _thought_ about suggesting that she wasn’t an adult. Thankfully, she seemed to have stayed in place where Obi-Wan left her by her boulder. He also did not know what he would do if the girl had heard the other man say he held no attraction towards her. It was so painfully obvious sometimes that the girl was head over heels for his friend. Surely by now, Obi-Wan had figured that out?

“Perhaps,” he spoke slowly, contemplating whether he ought to say something or not. It really wasn’t his place, but he did not want to see his friend reprimanded for something that could easily be prevented. “You should say so.”

“What does that mean?”

“Exactly how it sounds, my friend.”

“Iza is aware that our relationship is strictly that of Master and Padawan.” Obi-Wan frowned even harder. “Quinlan, there is no need—”

“You need to cut it off at the root, Obi. I told you before we even came here that the girl had eyes for you.”

“You are trying to cause unnecessary conflict between us.” Pointing, the Jedi clenched his jaw. “I will not tell that girl she cannot have friendly affections for me. As long as she knows not to allow them to cloud her judgements, it is harmless.”

 _Oblivious idiot_. He was beyond Quinlan’s help at this point. If Obi-Wan wanted to continue to turn a blind eye to things, then so be it. He could not give any more advice than he already had. He would not interfere any longer. He had given him enough warnings. One more couldn’t hurt, he supposed.

“Be careful.”

“You have said this to me before.” Obi-Wan was frustrated. He didn’t like the implications of Quinlan’s words one bit. He could not tell if the other man harbored some sort of secret jealousy that Iza was not as sweet on him, or if he simply did not understand that men and women could be physically affectionate with one another without there being anything _funny_ about it. While he might have fibbed a tiny bit—mostly to make _himself_ comfortable—about not feeling an attraction to the girl, he certainly had no plans to act on that attraction. He knew where the line was drawn and he had plans to stay as far away from it as possible. He was not an idiot. He did not want to lose everything he’d worked so hard to gain, _including_ his Padawan. Everything would smooth out once they got back to Coruscant. When there was a solid set of rules and boundaries in place to keep them in line, everything would be _fine._

“I say it because I care for you, my friend.”

“If you care for me so highly, _stop_ assuming you know everything.” Throwing a rather nasty look in Quinlan’s direction, Obi-Wan turned and stomped back through the brush back to the camp. Looking out to the river, he saw that the brunette was no longer near her rock. In fact, she was nowhere in sight. Oh, for the love of—“ _Iza!_ ”

“What?” She looked just as startled as she sounded as she stared at him from where she sat on her bedroll, pulling dry trousers on. Her color seemed to have returned and she no longer had that dazed look in her eye. That was something of a relief. Blowing out a breath, Obi-Wan ran his fingers through his hair and scrubbed his palm over his face.

“I’m sorry, my girl,” he hadn’t meant to yell like that. Quinlan had really grated on his nerves. “I thought—never mind.”

“I was going to get our things.” Iza murmured, tying the strings. “I was going to tell you first.”

“I will retrieve them.”

“Have I done something to upset Master Quin?”

“Master Quin is a busybody.” Shaking his head, the older man cast a soft look in her direction. “You have done nothing wrong.”

“Would you like me to challenge him to a combat session?” Iza smiled faintly, raising an eyebrow. “I can put him in the dirt for you, Master,”

Obi-Wan snorted, half tempted to take her up on the offer. He only shook his head and let out a short laugh.

“You should not say such things. He is still a Jedi. And you know better than that, my Padawan.”

“It was a jest, Master.” It wasn’t. She’d knock Quinlan Vos’ teeth out if he upset Obi-Wan enough. She was sure her master knew this.

“In any case, please do not make offers like that again.”

“Yes Master,”

“Are you feeling better?” He had forgotten to ask. Just because she appeared to be well did not necessarily mean she was.

“Yes Master Obi-Wan. Thank you.”

He gave a single nod of his head and propped his hands on his hips, looking off towards where he’d dropped their things. Gesturing, he wandered off without a word and left her sitting there to stare after him. When he was gone, Iza huffed out a harsh breath and leaned her head against the wall. Her chest hurt. Her throat was so tight. She wanted very badly to retreat to one of her secret spots and cry. How could he? How could he say such horrible things? He must be _lying_ , right? He could not treat her with such sweetness and _not_ feel some kind of affection beyond friendship for her. She had felt it the first night they’d shared the bedroll. He’d held onto her so tightly, like she might vanish if he let go for even a second. And he’d chased her down, made her promise to stop hiding away from him. These were not things that someone would do if they only felt _friendly_ feelings. It wasn’t as though she didn’t know it was wrong to want him to feel these things for her. But she’d _always_ wanted them. She’d done so much to try and gain them and he always seemed to harbor them for someone else. She never knew _who_ —but she knew they were not for her.

 _Too much of a child_.

It had been the thing that had crushed her. The words nearly had her bursting into sobs out in the open where everyone could see. If Master Quin had not looked at her when he did, she might have just run away. She would have broken her promise to Obi-Wan and hid herself away. It felt like it would only be fair since he’d gone and absolutely shattered what little hope she thought she had. She could not breathe. She felt sick. She’d gone blind with tears that she could not control and he would be back any moment. Grabbing for the blanket folded neatly nearby, she wrapped it tight around her shoulders and covered her head, lying down with her back to the cave. She cared not that it was still light out and that she had not had a meal since that morning. Iza would curl up on her bedroll and stuff the corner of the thick blanket into her mouth, biting down to stifle the heavy sounds of her sobs until she fell asleep.

~*~*~*~

Quinlan looked up from the datapad he’d been reading when he heard shuffling and saw a figure draped in a blanket sit down beside the dying fire. Cocking his head curiously, he watched the Padawan as she tossed kindling onto the coals to get them started again and heard her sniffing deeply. He cast a quick look to Obi-Wan sleeping soundly nearby and shut the device off, setting it in his pack before he got to his feet to stand near her.

“May I sit?” He asked quietly, watching as she looked up.

“I don’t care.” She sounded miserable. He had a feeling he knew why. Sitting down beside her, he picked up a stick from the kindling pile and poked at the coals with it.

“I apologize, little one,” he whispered. “I did not mean to hurt your feelings.”

“You did not.” Iza pressed her lips together tight and held back another sniffle.

“I pulled the confession from him,” leaning back on his hands, Quinlan stuck his legs out in front of him and sighed. “I should not have done that.”

“It is unfair.” Pulling the blanket tighter around her shoulders, Iza made a pained noise and blinked tears from her eyes. “Why must I feel this way when he does not?”

“The Force can be cruel.”

“It hurts so much,” letting out a shivery breath she reached to wipe her cheeks. It did little good. They were wet again in seconds. “I know I should not have these feelings. But he is the only person who has ever been good to me. I feel… so deeply in my soul that I…” she grasped the front of her tunic as her eyes briefly went out of focus. “…he sits so comfortably in my heart. Like it was made just to care for him.”

“Listen to me,” Quinlan leaned forward to look at her, waiting until Iza turned her head to fix her eyes on him. “I would like to tell you to let these feelings go. Throw them out into the Force and let it take the pain from you. But it will not help. I know from experience… it will do no good.”

“What do I do?” Her jaw quivered as she hiccupped. “I have to spend so much time with him. I do not even want to look at him, Master Quin.”

Quinlan’s features went soft and he swore. He didn’t mean to. He waited for her to say something but she seemed to be waiting for _him_ to say something instead. This poor kid. It was always the first heartbreak that hurt the most.

“You smile. You take all of that pain and you put it into your lessons the way Master Windu taught you. But when you look at Obi, _you smile_. Because that is what _he_ will teach you. Just keep smiling, little one.”

Iza let out a hard sob and covered her face with her hands, trying to muffle the sound with her blanket. Another heavy sigh gusted past Quinlan’s lips before he reached over and slipped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her against his side. He looked out at the water as he let her cry wishing that he’d never said anything at all. He could no longer tell whether it was the Force that was cruel, or if it was _him_ who was cruel. He had only wanted to make sure his friend was not going down the wrong path. He should have stopped to consider the Padawan as well. If he could take it back, he would. He honestly would.

“You should get some sleep,” he said long after Iza sobs had waned back into sniffles. “You have lessons in the morning.”

“I do not want them.” She said dully, rubbing her cheek.

“You must act as though nothing is amiss. He will know. You must _smile._ ”

She said nothing. Ducking out from beneath his arm, Iza got to her feet and slowly made her way toward the cave, pausing long enough to look at Obi-Wan’s sleeping form. She gave a slow shake of her head and rushed inside. When she’d fully disappeared, Quinlan could hear the soft sounds of more weeping. He sucked his teeth and threw the stick into the fire. He certainly hoped that he had not ruined everything for _both_ of them.

~*~*~*~

It had been a long time since Obi-Wan had been stirred awake by the sounds of Iza’s harsh breathing while she did her morning routine. He smiled a little to himself when his sleepy ears recognized the noise and he rolled over to find her on her rock, twisting and twirling the training staffs. They moved at such a high velocity that he could barely see her hands. She had her jaw set in a determined line, teeth visibly clenched behind her lips as she concentrated. She moved her body just as fluidly as ever, bending and twisting to stretch her limbs in that graceful way. He propped his cheek against his knuckles to watch, noticing that she’d gone back to wearing her ruined trousers. Perhaps they were easier to move in than the baggy ones? He did not have long to dwell on this thought when he saw her back suddenly go rigid and she fumbled one of the staffs, cracking herself hard across the face and knocking herself back into the river. He was on his feet in seconds, stumbling through the sand to get to her.

“Iza!”

She’d come up from beneath the water before he’d reached her, blood streaming from her mouth and nose. She gasped sharply, spitting water and blood as she reached to pull the blindfold off. Twisting, she shouted when she realized the staffs had started floating downstream. Scrambling to chase after them, she ignored Obi-Wan’s attempts to haul her back. Her hands flew out in front of her and she reached into the Force to try and draw the staffs back. It was hard to concentrate with blood in her eye. She must’ve split her brow as well. She felt the twin poles hit her palms and she sat down in the rocks, breathing hard and spitting more blood. Strong hands slipped beneath her arms and pulled her to her feet. She didn’t fight this time. Allowing her master to drag her back to shore, Iza tipped her head back on his shoulder and gagged a little when blood from her nose dribbled down the back of her throat. She was set down on the floor of the cave, the staffs pulled from her hands before his fingers were grasping her chin and lifting it.

 _Oh_.

She had already forgotten how pretty his blue eyes were. How handsome his face was even with worry twisting his features. That singular freckle on his cheek made the perfect distraction for all of two seconds before his hair was falling across his forehead and pulling her attention back to his eyes again. It hurt. It hurt so much to look at him. She felt her features starting to screw. Felt the tears beginning to well up. Force help her, she put the prettiest kriffing smile on her lips for him, though. The shock that fell over his face was almost devastating. It was like he _knew_. Like he’d somehow reached into her thoughts and figured her out without trying. He was saying something. She couldn’t hear him. She could still hear the sick _crack_ her nose had made when the staff had broken it. _Gosh_ —he had such pretty eyes.

“Iza,” Obi-Wan couldn’t believe that she was smiling at him like that. With blood pouring all down her face from Force only knew where, she smiled at him like there was nothing wrong. Never mind that she’d started crying the moment she’d set her eyes on him. He was confused. Sick and confused. He needed to get her cleaned up, but he had to make sure she hadn’t given herself a damn concussion first.

“Master,” she huffed out a breath and blinked slowly, trying to clear the blood from her eye. “…hurts.”

He could imagine. Those damn things were _not_ friendly. With as hard as she’d hit herself, he was surprised she was even conscious. He needed to get her cleaned up. Propping her against the wall of the cave, Obi-Wan went for one of the med kits and opened it, rooting around for the wipes. He was as gentle as he could possibly be as he swiped up the blood, pausing whenever she whimpered or turned away from the touch. She was in no state for meditation. He could not expect her to heal this herself. There was a bacta spray in the kit, but he could not put that near her eye. He was at a loss. Every time he thought he’d gotten the blood cleaned up, more would appear. She’d definitely broken her nose. Her lips were becoming so swollen. There would be a bruise for sure. He wished Quinlan was not such a deep sleeper. He could have used the help. Sifting through the kit, he came across a pain killer syringe. Single dose, and certainly strong enough to at least get rid of the ache for a little while.

“Darling,” he watched her flinch when he said it and almost frowned. “I’m going to give you something.”

“I don’t want it.”

“It will help, Iza.” Holding the needle up to show it to her, Obi-Wan heard her whine and tutted. “It will make the pain go away.”

“No it won’t.”

“It _will_.”

“ _I don’t want it_.” She insisted, pushing back against the wall like she was trying to move away from him. What choice did he have? He could not stick her with it against her will. It would not be right. Pressing his lips together, he tried one more time.

“For me?”

“ _No_.”

That surprised him. He had expected her to relent. If she truly did not want the drug, he would not force it upon her. He put the syringe back into the kit and once again, cursed Quinlan for being able to sleep through such a commotion. Running his fingers through his hair, he looked her over and frowned.

“My girl, I do not know what to do for you.” He would have to just apply the bacta topically. There was no other solution he could think of. Well—he could try healing her himself, but he’d sworn to stop doing that. In trade for disallowing her to heal all of _his_ minor wounds, he’d said he would keep to the same promise. Surely this was anything but _minor?_

“It is not…” she breathed slowly and shifted her gaze. “…for you to worry about.”

She may as well have gone and hit _him_ in the face with the staff. The absolute _audacity_. Throwing his words back at him like that. Did she have any damn idea how she looked to him right now? With her face beginning to swell and blood continuing to leak from her wounds—did she truly believe he could do anything _but_ worry? This was unlike her. Something was not right. He did not know how hard she’d jostled her brains, but she must’ve really shaken herself up if she was talking like this.

“That is not for you to decide.” Perhaps he should not have sounded so cross. He saw the way her jaw quivered as he said it before more tears began flooding her cheeks. It hurt him. He could not look at her sad eyes anymore. Once more he began fishing through the med kit, this time for the bacta spray. Upon finding it, he retrieved a medical pad and began soaking it down. He hated the smell of this. The fruity aroma was so unpleasant. Picking his head back up, he set to work dabbing the stuff over her wounds, doing his best to ignore the way she stared. He stopped when she flinched and gave her time to relax again before he would continue. When he had finished, she seemed to refuse to look at him. Fine. If that was what she wanted, _fine_. He began gathering the used medical supplies to discard them, shaking his head and muttering to himself. “Such a stubborn girl,”

Her sob startled him. Perhaps not as much as the soft way she wailed and tried to curl up against the wall. The sound hit him somewhere deep in his chest and made his stomach ache. Setting the kit aside, he hesitated before resting his hands on her knees. She batted at him, pushed at his arms. All of her limbs were pulled in close. He was _confused_. He could hardly think of a time when she did not want comfort. _Something was not right_.

“Iza,”

“ _Go away_.”

Obi-Wan felt as though he must’ve been caught in some kind of dream. This was a nightmare. He was still asleep on his bedroll and this was not happening. He was not experiencing such cold behavior from her. Reaching into the Force around her did no good. There was only static. The bond between them was steeped in pain. What kind of pain, he did not know. A nightmare. This was just a damn, horrible nightmare.

“My girl—”

Iza twisted and started to get to her feet, stumbling as she appeared to get dizzy. She caught herself against the wall and used it to brace herself and stay upright. Obi-Wan caught the way her nails scratched over the surface as she struggled. Her breathing was ragged. She swayed too much. He could not let her go like that. He reached for her and took hold of her by the waist of her ruined trousers. She protested with a weak holler and a good smack to his hands. He pulled. She pulled. He was stronger. He was not surprised at the way she fought and twisted when he pulled her back down onto his lap. Like a mad cat, she was. He found her hands and held them, crossing her arms over her wriggling torso to try and keep her still. She cursed at him and bowed away from his chest. He let her have her fit. She would tire soon enough. Patiently, he sat with her while she thrashed about until finally— _finally_ —she sank into his chest. Her head drooped and she wept, but he only parked his chin on her shoulder to wait that out too. When she had exhausted herself enough, Iza sat sucking down soft, choppy breaths while he held her.

Obi-Wan carefully uncrossed her arms for her, continuing to hold her hands while he rubbed his thumbs against her palms. He smiled faintly when she tilted her head against his. It pained him to have had to do that to her. He had not enjoyed any of it. He wondered if she knew that. Closing his eyes as he listened to her breathe, Obi-Wan took a deep breath of his own and let it out slowly.

“Let me help you,” he said quietly, feeling her fingers twitch. “I do not want you to be in so much pain.”

“It is _my_ pain.” She bit out weakly. “Let me suffer.”

“I cannot.”

“Let go of your concerns, Master.” Iza’s voice trembled hard as she said it. “It is not appropriate.”

“I am the teacher,” he reminded her, turning her hands over to idly circle her knuckles with his thumbs instead. “I will decide when it is appropriate to be concerned.”

“Stubborn old man,”

“I suppose I am,” Obi-Wan sighed and leaned back against the wall, taking her with him. “Close your eyes for me.”

“I will not.”

“Iza,” he let go of one of her hands and hesitated before tilting her head back with a nudge to her chin. “You will do as I say.”

She stared at him for a long time and he wished he knew what she was thinking. There were so many different emotions in those sweet eyes of hers. He could read none of them. One or two, perhaps. The rest were indescribable. He felt his heart sink when that familiar dullness began to creep into her gaze. He wanted to stop her. He wanted to remind her of her promise. But the girl seemed so determined to rebel against him and his word that he doubted it would do any good. After what felt like an eternity, she took a deep breath and nodded.

“Yes, my Master.”

He waited until she’d looked forward again before he frowned. He did not like that. Nevertheless, he sought out her hand again and held it gingerly as he sat up straighter against the wall. He felt her shift around in front of him, aligning her back with his chest. Strange how she seemed to know what he was going to ask of her.

“Have you closed your eyes?” He would check. Tilting his head enough to look, he waited for her answer.

“Yes.” She had.

“Good girl,” he would pretend not to feel her back tense against his chest. Lacing his fingers with hers, he breathed deep and shut his eyes as well. “Relax. Breathe with me. Let me help you, my dear Padawan.”

Iza did as she was told. He felt her breathing slowly fall into sync with his as her muscles went lax. He supported her with his chest when she sank back into him and was surprised when she did the same as he leaned into her. She’d remembered the importance of support during this exercise. Good. He was glad. Obi-Wan would not show her any lights this time as he began feeling his way along the Force to find the source of her physical pain. Her wounds were mapped out before him like a thermal scan and he focused on the places that needed it the most. The longer he concentrated on removing the pain from them, the fainter they seemed to become. When he could no longer see any signs of agony left in her signature, Obi-Wan eased back and slid into a shallower state of meditation with her. He would not correct her when she shifted her head and tilted it to rest against his. He could feel how tired her body was. She deserved rest. If she fell asleep during the exercise, it would be fine with him. He was just grateful for the sense of peace that had seemed to settle between them again.

When he pulled himself out of his meditative state after a long while, Obi-Wan found Iza sleeping quite comfortably in his arms. She seemed to have been able to take the time to heal up some of the mess on her face, but the bruise that flared out beneath her eyes from her broken nose would likely remain for a while. He wished so much that he knew what had gotten into her so suddenly. The way she looked at him as though he’d torn the very soul from her being; it would haunt him for weeks, he was sure. He hoped it was just a result of being hit in the head so hard. He knew of people whose whole personalities had changed due to head injury. He certainly hoped that would not be the case for her. Silly thing she was, he quite liked her that way. She could be careless and stubborn and downright _infuriating_ at times, but he would not change her even if he could. Humming quietly to himself, he rested his cheek to the top of her head and looked around the cave.

He found himself realizing that he would miss this. There would be no space allotted on Coruscant for them to have moments together like this one where it would not look suspicious to outside eyes. He supposed there were always the private meditation chambers, but that would also look extremely concerning to anyone unaware of their previous friendship. This was not a thing he could go to Qui-Gon about. The man would surely side-eye him for weeks if he brought this up. Then again—they likely would not need so much time for comfort on Coruscant. The Temple did not allow for so much of Iza’s careless behavior. She was less likely to fall down a mountainside or be swept away by a river. _He_ certainly would not have to worry about imbibing any drink. He still had no desire to have a sip, even when she drove him absolutely bonkers. Training sessions would be a bit tricky. They would be moving on to Jar’Kai soon. He still needed to talk to her about a second saber, if she even wanted one. There was always the option of a double-blade hilt. She was vicious with those damn training staffs. He could only imagine how formidable she’d be with an entire weapon made of kyber plasma.

“Obi-Wan,” Her voice startled him. So soft and quiet and _choked_. She twisted in his arms and whined, pulling her hands from his to grasp the front of his robes. Her breathing was a little erratic, but she did not look up at him. A tiny sob had him tilting his head to look at her. She was crying in her sleep.

“What is it, my dear?” Carefully sweeping hair from her bruised face, he frowned deeply at the way she pulled on him and pressed closer.

“It hurts,” she curled up tight in her spot between his knees, making a frustrated sound.

“What hurts, Iza?”

“Heart.”

He flinched. He didn’t mean to. Something about the way she said it so weakly struck that tender spot in his chest again. Gently, he threaded his fingers into her wet hair and cradled her head to his chest. His other arm wound tight around her, holding her closer. His cheek pressed to the top of her head and he swallowed thickly.

“I’m sorry, darling,” his voice was hardly a whisper.

“Fix it.”

Obi-Wan almost laughed. Even in her sleep, she expected too much of him. He supposed it was his own fault. He’d given her too much. He’d allowed her to have things he should not. Little freedoms he would have to take away at the expense of her happiness. And his.

“I cannot.” He gave her a tiny squeeze when she whined again. “Please forgive me.”

“Stay,”

“I will do that.” Of course he would. Whatever the context, he could at least grant her that. “I will stay.”


	6. Oh, My Little Girl

Life back on Coruscant proved to be a bit of a struggle for the few first weeks or so. Iza had grown so used to the freedom of wandering wherever she pleased, whenever she pleased, that being back in the Temple felt like some sort of punishment. She found she had not missed the smell of the polluted air or the loudness of the heavy city traffic. The bright lights from Galactic City irritated her. Even spending time in the garden did not help. The sounds of the other Padawans and younglings made it difficult to focus. What irritated her even more was the disallowance of her bare feet. She had grown accustomed to not wearing her boots for over six months. Putting them on every morning became a chore she did not want to commit to. They hurt her feet and slowed her down, she felt. She only wore them because Obi-Wan asked her to. He did not want her to be reprimanded for not adhering to the Temple’s code of dress. So she wore them. She also wore her new robes—colored a soft cream similar to those of her new master’s—properly and without fuss. That had taken some adjustment as well. She almost wished she were of a different species so she could get away with another style. Something similar to what Aayla wore would be much more preferable after dressing the way she had on Ragoon VI. But she wore the robes the proper way because Obi-Wan _asked_ her to. And she did not want the Council to find any faults in her master.

She still had a hard time looking at him. Iza could no longer look into his eyes or appreciate his warm smiles. Her heart did funny things when he would pat her shoulder in praise. It still hurt very much to think about what had happened and the things she’d heard him say. She did her best to let those things go. Iza tried to remember what Master Quin had told her; she put her pain into her lessons and smiled pretty for Master Obi-Wan. She did not know if he suspected anything. Sometimes she caught him looking at her when he thought she couldn’t see. He always had a strange look in his eye like he was trying to read the air around her for clues to her secrets. Iza knew better than that. She kept her secrets hidden in places where _nobody_ could see them. He could reach and reach all he wanted; he would never find them unless she wanted him to. The longer time went on, the easier it seemed to get. They fell back into a more normal existence with one another again.

And the longer time went on, the worse the whispers of her peers seemed to get as well. She heard new nicknames when she parted ways with her master from the training arena. _Sleaza_ seemed to be a favorite. Surprisingly, it was the girls who seemed to have the most vicious things to say. No longer did Baabic Loren have much to say about her. He must’ve learned his place after she’d cracked him with that flower pot. Or perhaps his master had given him a strong scolding for attacking her with the lightsaber? She did not know. She did not care to ask these things. Iza only knew that these girls would see her with Obi-Wan and the room would warm with jealousy. Did they not know that the situation was not as they perceived it? Did they not know that he did not have eyes for her? She was simply his Padawan. His affections were friendly, at best. Their horrible words were mostly lost to the Force. On occasion, someone would whisper something that felt very personal and she would nearly lose her focus for the entire day. Still, she smiled. For the sake of not losing progress. For the sake of not letting them know they were causing her anguish. For her master.

“You’ve put beads in your hair.”

Looking up from where she sat adjusting the power at the base of her lightsaber, Iza blinked at Obi-Wan in light confusion. It must’ve shown on her face because he gave one of his gentle smiles and gestured to her braid.

“You did not have these before.” He tilted his head to study them, looking curious.

“Oh,” untucking the thin plait from behind her ear, Iza twisted her neck to try and look at it, giving a funny sort of half smile. “Master Quin gifted me a box of silken beads. He said to choose the ones that called to me.”

“May I see?”

“Of course,” Shrugging, she watched him crouch beside her and take the braid between his fingers. His pretty eyes trailed over the length of the plait, thumb lightly skimming the surface of the colored beads when he reached them. Iza had chosen two different blue ones—one light and one dark—that were hung near the center tie. A yellow one sat at the next tie. She’d changed the color of the thread at the base of her braid as well and hung a red bead here. She heard him hum and let him tuck it back into place, unsure of what to make of the expression he gave when he looked back at her.

“I have a gift for you as well.”

“A gift, Master?” Setting her lightsaber aside as he sat down beside her, Iza watched him go to the pouch on his belt for something. He caught her trying to peek and waved his hand at her.

“You will see it in a moment. Do not be so impatient.” He nudged her shoulder to make her turn away and chuckled. Shifting her gaze, Iza focused on the arena instead. She tried not to let her thoughts wander to what it might be that he had for her. Instead, she shut her eyes and allowed herself to wallow in the feel of his presence. It was such a small luxury she’d granted herself to make things easier on her heart. She would sit in silence and feel for his signature in the Force and when she found it, she would simply soak in it. She did not know if it was inappropriate. She did not know if he could feel her when she did it. If he had any qualms about it, he certainly did not express them. Letting out a soft gasp when she felt fingers taking hold of her hand to turn it over, Iza pulled herself back in time for him to press something warm into her palm. He leaned on her shoulder a little too much and she heard the smile in his voice when he spoke,

“For you, my careless girl.”

Opening her eyes, Iza found a crystal sitting in the palm of her hand. To anyone else, it might’ve looked like a simple chunk of quartz. The heavy sense of Force energy that flowed all throughout it gave away its true identity. Her mouth fell open slightly in awe and Iza sucked in a soft breath, feeling that all-too familiar tightness in her throat. _A healing crystal_. A rather sizable one, too. She had seen the ones that had been gifted to other Padawans and they seemed like mere slivers in comparison.

“I know it is much too late in the year for your birthday,” Obi-Wan was speaking. She barely had enough sense to listen to him. “And you are well past your Ritual year. But you are _my_ Padawan and I would like the privilege of having gifted you something.”

“Master Obi-Wan…” It was such a thoughtful gift. While another Padawan might be disappointed in such a thing, Iza could only think of how—of all the objects he could have picked—he chose _this_. It was fitting. Since the day he’d found her on Ragoon VI he’d done nothing but complain about how careless she was with herself. He had given so much of his Force energy to patch up some of the stupidest wounds. He had taken time that could have been better spent on lessons tending to injuries. The sweet symbolism in his gift made her heart swell and break all over again. Funny that an object meant to _heal_ would tear open the deepest wound of them all.

_His careless girl. **His**._

“Do you not like it?” He’d tilted his head to look at her and gauge her reaction, a bit concerned that she hadn’t said much. A frown curved the corners of his mouth when he saw her on the verge of tears. “Iza?”

“I love it,” a watery smile spread across her face when she turned to look at him. She blinked and twin tears rolled down her cheeks. “Thank you, Master Obi-Wan. I shall cherish this.”

Bringing his hand up, he used his sleeve to dry the tears from her cheeks. Obi-Wan knew he should not feel so concerned. Perhaps she was just overwhelmed. She had not quite readjusted to life back at the Temple as easily as he’d hoped. In truth, he had not adjusted well either. Never would he have thought he’d miss sleeping on a bedroll on unforgiving sand and pebbles. But sleeping beneath the stars out in the open had been refreshing in comparison to the oftentimes claustrophobic Temple walls. He also missed the fresher air. Coruscant had a very distinct _scent_ to it that he found he had not missed. The noise pollution had been a nightmare for the first week or so, as well. The thing he found he missed most was the one thing he’d returned home with. _Iza_. He missed waking up to the sounds of her doing those silly exercises on the boulder. He missed the stubborn pout of her lower lip when she argued against something she did not want to do. He missed her softness and the smell of the river in her hair. They could not share the same kind of closeness they’d shared on Ragoon VI and it _pained_ him.

He settled for small gestures. A pat to her shoulder here; a squeeze of her arm there. It did not make up for the sense of emptiness his arms often felt at the sight of her. He felt he’d stooped to Quinlan’s level of lechery when he realized he’d begun to miss the way she wore her clothes before, too. Never mind the fact that she’d chosen robes in colors very similar to his; knowing what lay beneath those robes put such sinful thoughts into his head at times that he often needed to scold himself and think vile things to replace them. It got easier as time went on—as most things did—but every so often, Obi-Wan found himself wishing that things could be exactly how they were without consequence. As he sat here now, watching her cry over his gift, he wanted nothing more than to take her into his arms and hold her. He knew he could not. But he wished with his whole soul that he could.

“I’m glad you like it, my dear.” It would be so easy to gather her close and kiss those soft lips. It was an urge he knew he should not have. It was an urge he had been battling for weeks. “You may put it on a necklace if you like, or keep it in your waist pouch.”

“I could not string it onto a necklace. I would not want to lose it.” She let out a tiny laugh and looked down fondly at the crystal in her palm. For the briefest of moments, she leaned into him. Her head angled slightly to the side just enough to tip against his. And then she was pulling away, getting to her feet to tuck the crystal into the pouch at her waist. Obi-Wan watched as she ran her fingers beneath her eyes and sniffed deeply before turning to him with a smile he hadn’t seen in weeks. That soft, playful, _challenging_ smile that would spell trouble for his dreams that night. Stooping, she picked up her lightsaber and twirled the hilt over her knuckles, scarred brow popping up lightly. “Are you ready, my Master?”

“Are we to have a lesson today?” He could not remember if that was what he’d called her here for or not. He had wanted to give her the gift, of course. He had forgotten everything else the moment he’d seen that familiar shimmer in her eyes again.

“Oh no,” laughing, Iza shook her head and started towards the middle of the arena. “This is a duel.”

“A _duel?_ ” Already he was retrieving his lightsaber to adjust the power setting, a brow going up high on his forehead. He could not help the smile that followed. “And what are we dueling for, my Padawan?”

“I wish to go on an adventure,” she leveled her gaze with his before bending to unbuckle her boots and kick them off to the side and out of the way. Obi-Wan had allowed her to remove them during their lessons as long as there was no one around to watch. She could see no one on the viewing platform. They were alone.

“An adventure?” His smile widened as he walked into the circle. He found it endearing how she bounced on her toes before activating her lightsaber. He would wait until she had gotten a few good twirls in before he switched his on and did the same. “You know we have to be given an assignment first, right?”

“You can petition for one,” she started moving around the edge of the arena, eyeing him. The lightsaber never stopped moving at her side. “Master Quin told me so.”

“You have kept in touch with Master Quin?”

“Was I not allowed?”

“You are free to do as you like,” he waved his free hand, watching the careful way she moved. “I assume the terms are _if you win_ I am to petition for this _adventure?_ ”

“Yes Master,”

“And if I win?”

“What would you like?”

Obi-Wan nearly tripped over his damn feet. He played it off easily enough and managed to keep a straight face. _Force_ —he wished she had not said such a thing. Humming quietly in thought, he gave a light tilt of his head and smiled.

“If I win, you start Jar’Kai.”

“ _Another form?_ Master Obi-Wan—” Iza almost stopped her circling. The motions of her lightsaber slowed and she gave him a very frustrated look. “I do not even have a second lightsaber.”

“I will take care of that.” Obi-Wan promised, fixing her with a look. “Do we have a deal?”

Iza hesitated. She wanted so much to leave the Temple with him again. She could not bear to be stuck behind these walls much longer. She would just have to put all of her focus into besting him. Jar’Kai was not a terrible form to learn, but she did not want to spend all of her days learning lightsaber techniques. Iza wanted _experience_. She wanted the same kind of thrills he’d had. She’d already spent five of her years as a Padawan trapped in this place. She wanted _out_. Stopping in place, she lowered her stance, bringing one foot back and pulling the hand gripping her lightsaber back along with it. Her free hand came up in front of her and she gave a light _come hither_ gesture with her fingers as a sweet smile spread across her lips.

“Deal.”

~*~*~*~

It was hard to say how long they’d been at this. Iza’s hair had gone loose in its bun and thumped against the back of her neck as she moved. Her legs ached from moving around the arena, dodging him and the hard sweeps of his blade. Her arms felt as though they were on fire from the never-ending swings. Her back would surely ache from twisting and bending the way she had. It had been weeks since she’d been able to do her morning exercises. She’d stopped being cocky. The twirls of the saber hilt were only meant to build momentum now and strengthen her blade. She’d slipped into a sort of trance somewhere along the line, focusing solely on keeping this going until one of them fell. It would _not_ be her.

He aimed for her leg. She blocked, swept her arm up and pushed his blade back, spun on her toes— _jabbed_. He danced out of the way and slashed downward. She slashed upward. A heavy sound rang out as the blades clashed. Iza felt the heat of the plasma radiate against her cheek. Their eyes locked through the glow and she drew in a deep breath through her nose, pushing forward on her throbbing legs to throw him off. Whirling, she dropped low and went for his ankles. Obi-Wan was quicker and hopped the blade. Iza rolled out of the way before he had the chance to strike down on her. She attacked, parried, ducked out of his way— _repeat_. Over and over they danced around one another while sweat poured down their faces and soaked their robes. She had stopped using Soresu exclusively. It wasn’t a fair tactic, but Obi-Wan had not stopped her. She would _not_ lose.

After a long while, they found themselves pacing the outer edge of the arena. Panting like animals, they circled one another and twirled the hilts of their lightsabers in such similar fashions it seemed as though they were mirroring each other. Iza blinked the sting of sweat from her eyes and watched him do the same. Both rolled their heads on their shoulders until their necks cracked. Eyes met. Lips parted in slow smiles. They charged.

Iza felt the brunt of the clash in her shoulders when her blade hit his. The balls of her bare feet scraped hard against the gravel of the arena floor as he pushed into her. With a hard yell, she threw her weight forward and twisted her hips to take a step forward and push him back. He was stronger. He was so much stronger. He shoved ahead, knocking her back. She tried to make up for it with a sloppy downward sweep, but he met her halfway in a quick disarming arc that knocked the hilt from her hand. Iza shouted in disbelief and fury when her saber hit the floor of the arena and skittered a short distance. She’d lost. After all of that effort—she’d _lost_.

“Iza,”

The brunette did not want to look at him. This was her fault. She knew it. But that did not make losing any easier. She had wanted so much to leave this place with him. Now she would be stuck here for Force knew how long. All of this for _nothing_. She felt him take hold of her arm and she shut her eyes. Taking a deep breath, she turned and bowed deeply, if only so he would not see her start to cry.

“Congratulations, my Master,” she swallowed hard and was thankful that her hair had fallen out of place. It gave her enough cover to hide. Obi-Wan let go of her arm and she heard the sounds of him shifting around. His shadow on the arena floor suggested he was bowing as well.

“You fought very well, my Padawan. I’m proud of your progress.”

Iza did not know whether she could straighten without losing her composure. She saw his shadow move and felt him set his hands on her shoulders. He nudged her upright and looked down at her even as she stared blankly at his chest.

“I will speak with Master Yoda,” Obi-Wan said quietly. “We will have an adventure very soon, my girl.”

Looking up at him in surprise, Iza felt her mouth fall open. He simply smiled at her in that warm way of his. His fingers gave the tiniest of squeezes to her shoulders before they fell away. He brushed past her to retrieve her lightsaber, turning it over in his hands and humming quietly to himself.

“Master Obi-Wan,” she had finally found enough sense to speak, though she was not quite sure of what to say.

“I think I shall start your Jar’Kai lessons after you have chosen your second saber.” Coming back over to hand the hilt back to her, he continued smiling and gave the lightest tap to the underside of her chin. “You must get used to it first, as well. I do not want you out of balance with an unfamiliar weapon.”

“ _Master_ ,”

“You have earned this, my Padawan,” he gave a slow bow of his head and turned to hang his lightsaber from his belt. He gave another soft look and gestured towards her boots. “Do not forget those. You may return to your chamber.”

“Thank you,” Iza grabbed for his hand. She shouldn’t have, but she did it anyway. She only held on for half a minute. Long enough to squeeze his fingers and get a gentle squeeze in return. The touch made her body warm and a soft smile broke out onto her face. “I do not deserve your generosity, Master Obi-Wan. But I am grateful.”

“You are most welcome,” he released her hand and stepped away, giving another low bow before he met her gaze and flashed an even wider smile than before. “I shall see you at supper.”

“Yes Master,” Iza watched him go and had to cover her mouth with the back of her hand to hide the stupid way she grinned. Could she be imagining this? The warm energy between them felt the way it once did. He had not given her such a playful look in so long. He was always kind, even when he was frustrated. But his eyes had not smiled like that since they’d been back on Coruscant. It made her belly and her heart flutter. It sent a strange warmth spreading all throughout her being from head to toe. She did not know what had changed, but she would not complain. Iza would only gather her boots and head out of the training arena so she could go to her chamber and continue basking in this feeling in peace.

~*~*~*~

Iza smiled faintly to herself as she made her way towards the refectory. She had washed up from her duel with Master Obi-Wan and had spent a great deal of time in her chamber working away on a gift for him. She did not know if he would like such a silly thing, but it had felt _right_ when she sat down to do it. She could not help thinking how childish a bracelet made from the same threads she used to bind her braid might appear to him. She wondered if he would accept it at all. Iza had already decided that she would wear it herself if he would not. She was in such high spirits that his refusal of such a stupid charm would not damper her mood. Well, maybe a _little_. She had chosen threads in shades of blue and one of silver. She did not like to use them for her hair. It felt wasteful. Crude as the bracelet was with her minimal weaving skills, the threads served a better purpose this way.

Her eyes sought him out the moment she stepped into the room, finding him standing with a few of the other Padawan girls who enjoyed spending their time saying rude things to her. He seemed to be patiently listening to them, smiling a smile that did not quite reach his eyes. The bitter part of her felt a sense of smugness over that. Those girls could not get him to smile the same way she could. She watched a funny look cross his face before he picked his head up and looked at her from where he stood. His smile stayed in place but his blue eyes brightened like someone had lit a fire in them. He did not linger long, turning back to answer a question. Satisfied that he at least knew she was around, Iza moved to see what was on the menu for the evening. The kitchens were well known for providing some rather _exotic_ dishes. She was not a fan of most of these things. Her diet had changed so much while she was away that Temple food seemed too rich in comparison to simple fish and vegetation. Even the smell of this place made her queasy sometimes. She was contemplating whether to get a fruit plate or not when someone’s shoulder collided hard with hers.

“Move, _Sleaza_ ,” one of the girls who’d just been speaking with her master shot her a nasty look as she passed, her friend making a point to jostle the brunette from the other side. Staring after them, Iza wondered what she might’ve done this time to deserve that when a gentle hand touched her shoulder.

“Rude girls,” Obi-Wan tutted and stood beside her, looking up at the menu only to wrinkle his nose. “Do not listen to them. They speak only nonsense.”

“Master?”

“I feel like stepping out for supper,” he hummed and shot her a quick glance. “Have you been to the diner?”

“I’m…” she blinked and shook her head. “I’m not allowed out.”

“My girl,” Obi-Wan laughed and cast a fond look at her. So sweetly naïve, she was. “You may leave the Temple with me. You are not a child, Iza. Your restrictions are not quite so severe.”

“Master Windu never—” Iza stopped herself, drawing in a deep breath before she lowered her gaze and just smiled. “I have not been to the diner, my Master. Will they have something better than… this?”

“They will have something to your liking, yes,” giving her a nudge so she would follow, Obi-Wan guided her out of the refectory. “You will have to pardon my friend Dex, however. He is very loud and will be very—ah— _enlivened_ by the news that I have taken a Padawan.”

“You have not told your friend?”

“I have not had much time, my dear,” he gave her a look. “I have been rather busy.”

The brunette said nothing and ducked her chin. She heard him chuckle beside her and allowed him to steer her through the Temple. They were nearing the entrance when Obi-Wan paused a moment and sucked his teeth.

“I don’t suppose you’ve ever been on the back of a speeder bike, have you?”

“No, Master,” Iza drawled, suddenly feeling _very_ nervous.

“Would you like to?”

“Is…” She was going to ask if it was _safe_. She trusted Obi-Wan and she trusted his skills with a hovercraft. She did not, however, trust that her nerves would survive such a ride. “Is the diner far?”

“Not terribly,” he shrugged and waved his hand. “But we would need to take a cab if you feel uneasy about the speeder.”

“We…” she did not want to make him pay for a cab. She had a feeling he would already argue about paying for supper. “We can take the speeder, Master.”

“Are you positive?”

“Yes.”

Obi-Wan gave a soft hum of satisfaction and nudged his palm against the small of her back to continue guiding her out. Neither of them spoke on the way to the hangar. Iza was becoming more and more nervous by the second and she hoped he could not feel it. She tried to put her focus on the woven bracelet she had waiting for him in her waist pouch. She needed to find a good moment to give it to him. Perhaps when they reached the diner she could do that. Assuming they made it in one piece.

“This one is perfect,” he pulled her out of her thoughts and Iza found herself standing beside a plain looking speeder bike. It looked just like every other speeder bike she’d ever seen. Perhaps a bit stubbier. She nodded in agreement just to give herself something to do and heard him laugh breathlessly. “Would you be more comfortable sitting up front?”

“Is that safe?”

“Perhaps not for _me_ ,” he smiled and shrugged. “You would have to hold the bars. I imagine you may feel safer than you might just clinging on, however.”

“I do not want to cause an issue.” Iza shook her head and stepped back. “I will sit behind you.”

“Are you sure?”

Nodding, she stared at the bike like she was waiting for it to explode in front of her. She did not know why she was so scared of it. It could not be any more frightening than a hovercar with an open cockpit. She _loathed_ those. Maybe it was the fact that there was nothing to surround her that made it so terrifying. Whatever it was, she tried not to let the fear show too much on her face as she watched Obi-Wan mount the vehicle and hold his hand out for her to take.

“Tuck your cloak in tight. You do not want it whipping around.”

“Yes Master,” she gathered the ends up and pulled them in around her before taking his hand to mount the back of the bike. At first, she wasn’t quite sure of what to do. There was nothing to hold onto back here. What had he expected her to _cling_ to?

“Iza,” looking back at her, he raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure you want to do this? I do not have a problem hailing a taxi.”

“We would have to wait,” she bit down on her bottom lip, annoyed by her stupid excuse. She just needed another minute to find a grip or _something_ so she would not go flying off. “I do not wish to make you wait longer for your supper, Master.”

“That is very sweet, my dear. But if you are uncomfortable—”

“There is nothing to hold onto, Master.”

He laughed outright, the sound loud and extremely amused. He said nothing at all as he reached back behind him and took hold of her hands, pulling them forward to encourage her to wind her arms around his middle. Still chuckling, Obi-Wan flashed a bright, affectionate smile and tried not to sigh. What a _silly_ girl.

“You must hold onto _me_ , my dear.” Her soft _oh_ of realization had him snickering again. “Much tighter than you are now.”

Hesitating, Iza leaned into his back and tightened her hold on him. Resting her chin on his shoulder, she jumped when he started the bike and clutched the front of his robes. She made a soft noise as the bike lifted from the ground, and another as he steered it out of the hangar. As the bike picked up speed, so did her heart. Higher and higher into the air they went until they were filing into the traffic lines overhead. Iza had curled up so tight against his back at this point, face buried against the back of his neck as her fingers twisted tight in the material of his robes. She could feel the vibrations of his chest as he chuckled at her.

“Are you all right, darling?” He asked over the sound of the bike, sounding amused.

Iza whined and tried to nod. The bike gave a jolt when he turned suddenly and she shouted, pressing uncomfortably close to his back and squeezing her knees against his sides. She wanted to get off. She hated this. She felt like she was going to tip and fall off every time he took a turn. She thought she could feel herself slipping from the seat. Her stomach kept dropping out from under her. _She hated this_. The honk of a passing car startled her horribly. They were descending. Slowly—down, down, down. She was a shaking mess by the time he had parked behind the diner. Breathing in quick, shallow heaves, she clutched at him and flinched as he shut the bike down.

“Iza,” his hands were gentle when they covered hers. He did not pull or encourage her to move them. He simply rubbed his fingertips along her knuckles and waited. When a few minutes had passed and she still had not moved Obi-Wan tutted and gently pried her fingers free, twisting to gather her and bring her around to the front. “Will you look at me?”

Iza shook her head. She did not want him to see how terrified she was. She did not want him to feel guilty. They still had to go back to the Temple on this _contraption_ , after all. Letting out a quiet gasp when his fingers slid beneath her jaw to tilt her head up, Iza squeezed her eyes shut and pinched her mouth to keep her lip from quivering. He could not know. He could _not_.

“We shall take a taxi back,” he said softly, brushing hair off of her face. “I’m sorry to have frightened you.”

“I’m fine.” She bit out, finally opening her eyes. Judging by the look in his eye, he did not believe her. “That’s unnecessary, Master.”

“You must learn when to yield, my girl,”

“Not right now, I do not.”

“ _Padawan Tacor_ ,” his voice took on that tone that she hated. Iza knew when he went back to calling her by her last name that she was not to argue with him anymore. Obi-Wan did not seem to mind her stubbornness most days. He only seemed to take this tone when she started doing things that were not good for her. It was to be expected, she supposed. He _was_ her master. He needed to keep her in line. Especially here on Coruscant where there were _eyes_ everywhere that were scrutinizing him.

“We must take the bike back, Master,” she whispered, wishing she could make her face look braver. “We cannot leave it here.”

“Then I will put _you_ in a taxi.”

“Alone?”

Obi-Wan looked like he wanted to swear. He also looked annoyed by the fact that she was making good points. After a long moment of just staring down at her—contemplating—he clucked his tongue and rolled his eyes.

“ _Very well_ ,”

“Master?”

“Yes?” He sounded impatient.

“I have something for you,” Iza did not think that _now_ was a good time for this, but she wanted him to smile again. At first, he looked confused, tilting his head at her.

“You… what?”

Shifting to get at her waist pouch, Iza carefully fished out the bracelet and held it tight in her palm for a moment. Would he think it was stupid? It was not very pretty to look at, but she’d done her best. She had just wanted to find _some_ way to thank him for being so sweet to her and this seemed to be the most _appropriate_ way. Anything else would likely cause problems. Taking a deep breath, she looked up at him again and smiled before taking one of his hands to put the bracelet into his palm.

“I will not be offended if you do not wish to wear it,” she gave a weak laugh and tucked her braid behind her ear. “And I know it is kind of… _juvenile_. But your gift was so _thoughtful_ , and these colors… they remind me of the lights you showed me.”

Obi-Wan opened his hand to look at the thin, woven bracelet she’d handed him. At first glance, it looked like the kind of thing he would see the younglings make for one another when they were close. As she spoke and explained the significance of the colors, he felt his chest warm. Light blue and dark interlaced together with a fine silver thread; a physical representation of their energies within the Force. Did the girl realize this? He was not even sure she knew they were _bonded_ within the Force at times. The colors made him think of the beads she’d fixed into her braid. The twin blues sat together while the yellow— _Quinlan_ —had its own rung. He could not imagine what the red represented. He wondered if she’d meditated on this in the same manner before crafting it. He decided he did not care. Smiling, he picked it up and twirled it, holding it up to the neon light of the diner sign to watch the silver thread sparkle. Yes—it was indeed quite a juvenile little charm. He adored it.

“Will you tie it on for me?” He asked, holding it out to her. Iza looked as though she had been expecting a completely different reaction. It took her a moment to process what he’d said before she was nodding. He waited for her to take it before he began rolling up the sleeve of his dominant hand. He could cover the bracelet with the sleeve of his tunic and it would not catch on anything. It would also stay concealed this way and not draw attention. He decided it did not matter to him if it _did_. Watching her as she securely knotted the little woven charm into place, Obi-Wan cast another fond smile at her and—without stopping to _think_ —dropped a kiss to her hairline. “Thank you, my dear. This is very sweet.”

Iza tried _so hard_ not to gasp at the soft brush of lips and the gentle scratch of his beard against her skin. It had been so quick that she wasn’t quite sure she’d felt it at all. If it weren’t for the fact that she’d tipped her head back and found his face _so damn close_ to hers, she likely would have brushed it off as her own imagination. She almost kissed him back. Force help her—she almost leaned in and stole his lips for herself. Had it not been for the very real sense of panic she suddenly felt— _not hers_ —she might’ve done it. Obi-Wan stared at her like realized he’d just done something awful. She could see quite clearly in his eyes that he had _not_ meant to give her that little kiss at all. She could not take one for herself. Instead, she just smiled at him the way Master Quin advised her to do and gave the strings one last knot to keep them secure.

“I’m glad you like it, my Master,” she murmured, trying to sound as though she couldn’t still feel where his lips had burned her skin. “Shall we go inside?”

“Yes,” he tried not to say it too quickly, glad she had not acknowledged his little slip up. He was not sure what he would have done if she had. Offering her his hand to help her down, he waited until she had both feet on the ground before he dismounted the speeder bike. He felt like a fool. He could have shown his gratitude in a million different ways and he’d gone and done _that_. What was worse, he could see very clearly that it had confused her. An imbecile, he was. An honest and true _dunce._

“Are you sure they will have something I can eat here, Master Obi-Wan?” Iza interrupted his self-degrading with her question and he focused his attention on her. She stood near the door, frowning lightly as she peered in through the transparisteel before glancing back at him. Laughing, he came up and nudged her between the shoulders with his palm to usher her inside.

“I will ask Dex to hold off on the grease for you,” he teased, pulling the door open to allow her entry before following behind. The place was as busy as it always was and he could see right away that the noise was not something Iza would find appealing. Smiling as FLO rolled up to them, he gave a light nod of his head in greeting. “And how’s the loveliest droid in the galaxy doing this evening?”

“ _Dex_ ,” the unicycled service droid chirped as she gestured Obi-Wan and Iza towards a table. “Your Jedi is here,” she placed menu datapads in front of them as they sat down and shifted her ocular sensors in Iza’s direction. “He has a _girl_ with him.”

Iza felt her face go hot and immediately turned her attention to the datapad. Obi-Wan only smiled wider and gave a low chuckle. FLO rolled away and a moment later, a rather large Besalisk male came tromping over to stand beside the table, one of his meaty hands coming down hard on the surface and startling Iza half to death.

“Obi-Wan!” He grinned wide and slapped another hand against Obi-Wan’s shoulders. “You just missed Vos.”

“Quinlan was here?” Reaching over to pat the man’s hand in greeting, Obi-Wan tilted his head curiously. “I did not know he was still on Coruscant.”

“I told you he gave me the beads, Master,” Iza murmured, not looking up from her datapad.

“ _Master?_ ” Dex looked between the brunette and Obi-Wan, a smirk curling the corner of his mouth. “I thought Jedi were put in charge of little snotrags? I didn’t know you could take pretty girls. I missed my calling.”

“ _Dex_ ,”

“You know, FLO said you had a girl with you,” Dex’s yellow eyes shifted back to Iza and he cocked his head. “Thought maybe you’d finally gone back to Manda—”

“Dexter, this is my Padawan—Iza Tacor. Iza, I did warn you that Dex was a handful.” Obi-Wan looked very much like he wanted to be vaporized on the spot. Even as he smiled, he breathed as though he were trying to hold back the urge to scream.

“Dexter Jettster.” The cook offered his closest hand. “Happy to meet you, Miss Tacor,”

“And you, Dex.” Iza took his hand and shook it briefly with a polite smile. When she was released, she glanced at Obi-Wan for half a second before looking back down at her datapad. There wasn’t much here that seemed appetizing. Everything was fried or dipped in something that sounded _disgusting_. But it did appear to be a slight bit better than what the refectory was offering, so she would not fuss.

“What was Quin after?” Obi-Wan moved over in his side of the booth so the Besalisk could heave his way in beside him. Iza looked up when the table jumped from his belly bumping into it, but said nothing.

“He had some questions about _traders_ ,” Dex waved his hand. “I sent him down to the Market.”

“I do wish he would have told me,” frowning lightly, Obi-Wan shook his head.

“If there’s any one of you Jedi who can make it down at the Market, it’s Vos.” Dex paused, thinking. “And maybe _your_ old master.”

“Qui-Gon knows the layout of the land quite well.”

“What is _the Market?_ ” Iza asked, drawing both sets of eyes in her direction. She watched the way Obi-Wan’s expression softened into something gentle and affectionate, if not a bit patronizing. Frowning, she sat up in her seat and fixed him with a look. “Do not give me such a face, Master. You need not answer my question if you think it childish.”

“It’s our black market, my dear girl. You may have heard Master Windu call it _The Underground_.” He continued smiling, although he’d gained something of an annoyed expression on top of it. His gaze shifted to Dex again and he made a face. “What was he looking for, Dex?”

“Hm?”

“What was Quin after that you needed to send him down to the Market for?”

“Not sure,” the man began scooting out of the booth, upsetting the table once more.

“ _Dexter_ ,”

“Hey—you know I’m not at liberty to talk in great detail about the things you Jedi ask me about.” Turning all four of his hands up, Dexter grinned. “Is she old enough to drink? I’ll get the two of you started with a couple ardees.”

“She does not drink and I have to drive, but thank you. Caf will be fine.”

“I’ll send FLO over for your orders,” rapping his knuckles against the tabletop, Dex cast another quick look at Iza. “Take care of him. He’s a huge pain in my ass, but I like the guy.”

“I will, sir,” Iza pursed her lips to stop a smile, barely glancing at Obi-Wan, who shook his head. Another tap of his knuckles and Dex was wandering back into the kitchen. When he had left, Obi-Wan blew out a soft breath and ran his fingers through his hair distractedly.

“That went over much easier than I expected,” he mumbled. It was hard to tell whether he was relieved or not. Flicking his gaze over to Iza, he raised an eyebrow and gestured to the datapad. “Have you found anything, my dear?”

She didn’t want to tell him the food at this place looked disgusting. He seemed quite fond of the establishment—and of Dex—and she did not want to ruin that for him. Her picky stomach could handle one night of greasy food. For him.

“What do you recommend, Master Obi-Wan?” She set the datapad down and rubbed the back of her neck. “There’s just… _so much_.”

She was sweet. She was very sweet. He could tell she was trying very hard not to hurt his feelings. There were no more dishes to choose from on this menu than there were at the refectory. He’d honestly just wanted to get out of the damn Temple. Taking her with him had been a bonus. If he could not get her fed here, he could take her to the night market and find something more to her taste. He wished they could stay out _all night_ , but even he had a curfew when he was not on assignment.

“Stay away from the sliders,” he leaned forward in his seat to steal her datapad and pull it towards him, scrolling up and down along the menu. “I adore Dex but he does not follow the cooking regulations for the meat. You will be ill for a week.”

“What is an _ardees?_ ”

“Jawa Juice, my girl,” he shot her a quick look and went back to scrolling. “No, you may _not_ have one.”

“I am of age to make that decision on my own,”

“Mm,” he nodded. “And are we going to have to revisit—”

“No. No, I’m sorry,” Iza shook her head and picked at a thread in the sleeve of her robe beneath the table. That was the _last_ thing she wanted to think about.

“Iza,”

She lifted her gaze to meet his and found him giving her an unreadable look. After a moment, the corner of his mouth lifted and he gave the seat beside him a pat.

“Come here,” he gave a tiny jerk of his head when she simply stared at him. “It will be easier to help you choose something if we can both see this silly thing.”

She hesitated for a moment before changing seats, looking down at the screen when he pushed the datapad between them. He was warm. He smelled so nice. She had not had a chance to enjoy these things when she’d been on the back of that damn speeder bike. He leaned into her shoulder just a little too much in order to scroll down the screen. She leaned into him just because she could get away with it. Neither of them said anything. She was pretty sure they weren’t even reading the menu. Iza could hear him taking slow, deep breaths beside her and felt him fidget with the edge of his cloak beneath the table. The noise of the diner was no longer of any concern. It was just the two of them here. She felt the slightest brush of knuckles against the back of her hand. Slow, tentative, _curious_. Under the guise of looking closer at the menu, she shifted in her seat and tilted her head. Her fingers stretched to find his, slid along the length of them, and carefully curled around them. He smiled.

Iza could no longer see the menu. Her mind raced at a million miles a second and her heart was beating twice as fast. She felt him tighten his fingers around hers and thought she might pass out. The angle of his head shifted. His hair fell and brushed against her cheek. She started to sink further into his side. He smelled _so damn nice_.

“Obi-Wan,”

Both of them seemed to jerk to attention as their bubble was popped. Iza felt him untangle his fingers from hers and tucked her hand into her lap at the sight of Master Qui-Gon and his Padawan standing just inside the door to the diner. She hoped she didn’t look as panicked as she felt. Beside her, she could hear her master breathing shallowly. He had been just as startled. They did not look at one another as the other Jedi approached with the boy. Master Qui-Gon did not appear to find anything amiss as he smiled brightly and stood beside their table. His hands settled on the shoulders of his Padawan and he surveyed the two expectantly.

“Master Qui-Gon,” running his fingers through his hair to push it back into place, Obi-Wan waved a hand at the open space across from them. “Please,”

“We do not wish to intrude,” Qui-Gon had a look in his eye that Obi-Wan did not like. He knew his master well enough to know when the man was suspicious of something. He looked for all the rest of the world as though he was his typical jolly self. For Obi-Wan, that look meant he was going to be scolded.

“You are not intruding, Master,” _bless this girl_. Iza felt tense beside him but seemed to know that it was best to allow the man and his apprentice to sit with them. Their sweet moment would have to wait. “You may use our other menu.”

“That is very kind of you, Padawan Tacor,” nodding his head, Qui-Gon gestured for the boy to take a seat before sliding in beside him. After a moment or two, he looked between Iza and the teenager beside him. “Anakin, you are familiar with Obi-Wan’s Padawan, are you not?”

“Yes Master,” Anakin gave a polite smile and a nod, but he wore the bored expression of someone who had somewhere else they’d rather be.

“What brings the two of you here, Master?” Obi-Wan asked, casually scooting away to put some space between himself and his Padawan. He did not feel like enduring much of his master’s disguised scrutiny.

“The refectory is serving garbage.” Qui-Gon lowered his eyes to the menu in front of him and scrolled through it mindlessly. “Same reasons you’re here, I expect.”

“Yes sir,” Obi-Wan nodded and gave a quick glance to Iza. “Have you figured out what you want yet, my dear?”

“Try the sliders,” Qui-Gon flashed a quick smile as he picked his head up to look at Iza, blue-gray eyes studying her face before glancing away again. “They’re greasy, but they’ll fill you up for a week.”

Iza opened her mouth like she was going to say something, and then closed it. She did not know why she felt so uncomfortable around Master Qui-Gon all of a sudden. She never had this problem before. He was such a warm, caring man. He had his quirks at times, but his heart was in a good place.

“Would it be all right if I ordered the scalefish, Master?” She asked timidly, turning to look at Obi-Wan. He tilted his head at her curiously, seemingly confused by her shift in demeanor.

“You may order anything you wish, Iza,” he waved his hand. “You do not need to ask my permission.”

“I advise against the tartar sauce,” Qui-Gon murmured, passing the datapad to Anakin so he could have a look. “It leaves a _taste_ on your tongue.”

“Master,”

“I’m just giving a fair warning,” turning his hand up, the older Jedi seemed to glance at the table before looking around. “You have not ordered your usual Jawa Juice?”

“I’m driving.”

“When has that stopped you?” Qui-Gon smirked slowly. “Not that I condone such a thing.”

“I’m off drink.”

“That does not sound like you,” frowning, Qui-Gon sat back in his seat and drummed his fingers against the tabletop thoughtfully. “Have you and Quinlan decided to stop your monthly visits to the Outlander, then?”

“I have better things to do than get drunk with Quin at a club, Master,” Obi-Wan set his jaw and shot his master a look. “I do not have time for such things.”

“I’m sure your Padawan would not mind. We are allowed time for respite, after all.”

“If I say I do not wish to do something, it means I do not wish to do it.” Obi-Wan could not help the way he puffed up beside the brunette, or the way his face had become so sour. “Please be kind enough to drop it.”

Master Qui-Gon simply turned his hands up in surrender and fell silent. No one at the table spoke. FLO rolled by and quietly distributed mugs of caf among them before she readied herself to take their orders. Everyone but Obi-Wan seemed to have one.

“I shall be fine with this, thank you,” he gave a light smile and a nod as he gestured to his mug of caf, watching FLO’s ocular sensors flicker before she let out a buzzing _hum_ and rolled away again. Iza could not keep from looking over at him. That uncomfortable feeling was almost worse now. It was followed by a heavy sense of irritation. These were not her feelings; they were Obi-Wan’s. Beneath the table, she shifted her hand to rest the back of it against his leg. A single crooked finger rubbed in a soothing gesture against the side of his thigh. She saw his head move slightly out of the corner of her eye and caught the smile on his lips widening.

“You came all this way and you are not going to order anything?” If Qui-Gon suspected anything, he certainly did not sound like it. He seemed too invested in watching the HoloNet screen above the front counter as it displayed that evening’s smashball replay.

“If she eats quickly, we can go to the night market.” Obi-Wan carefully shifted beside the brunette again, taking a wider leg stance as he brought his mug to his lips. “I should have just taken her there to start, but I have not seen Dex in months.”

“The night market is no place for a Padawan to roam,” Qui-Gon’s eyes shifted from the screen to Obi-Wan’s face.

“She would not be _roaming_ , Master,” the tension that had begun to ease out of him was returning. “How careless do you believe me to be?”

“Anakin, you are very quiet,” Iza could not stand to sit in this booth with these men if they were going to do nothing but bicker. “Are you not happy to be out of the Temple?”

“I go out all the time,” the teen shrugged his shoulder and gave her a funny look. “Don’t you?”

The movements of her hand against Obi-Wan’s leg slowed for a moment. She caught sight of him rubbing at his chin before his hand fell onto his lap. It shifted. His fingers caught hers and gave a gentle squeeze.

“ _You_ do not _go out_ , my young Padawan,” Qui-Gon muttered, giving the boy a stern look. “You _sneak out_. There is a difference.”

“She is past the Age of Responsibility,” Anakin gestured. “She has more freedom than I do.”

“She is still a Padawan, Anakin.”

“Master Qui-Gon kept me on a reasonably short leash until I was in my twenties.” Obi-Wan grinned lightly from beside Iza, brushing his thumb against her knuckles with the relief that he knew no one could see. “It truly depends on the master, but if you misbehave—you may find yourself with tighter restrictions than I had, Anakin.”

“Does _she_ misbehave?” Anakin jerked his head in Iza’s direction. “Is that why she is at the Temple all the time?”

“She is sitting right in front of you, Ani. You may ask her these things yourself.” Qui-Gon gestured and Iza wished he had not said that. She saw the way the boy looked at her from over the top of the table in the same judging manner the girls in her age group did, and she wanted very much to get up and leave.

“I thought Master Windu made you _leave_ because of your behavior? Why did you get to come back with a new master?”

Iza gripped Obi-Wan’s fingers so tight that he flinched beside her. She let go and ducked her chin to avoid looking at him.

“Master, may I—”

“These things are none of your business, Padawan Skywalker,” Obi-Wan said curtly, taking a long sip of his caf. “That was not the question you were meant to ask. You asked if she misbehaves—she does _not_. Iza minds herself very well. She chooses to stay in for her own reasons. I have no need to put tight restrictions on her because of this.”

“There you go, my boy,” Qui-Gon smiled as though the conversation had not just turned sour. “Does that answer suit you?”

Anakin said nothing and just looked out of the transparisteel. Another tense round of silence fell over the booth and Iza could not help the way she began to fidget in her spot beside Obi-Wan. She suddenly did not feel very hungry. If Anakin knew that Master Windu had sent her away, did the rest of the Temple know this? Or was he only privy to the information because he’d overheard a conversation not meant for his ears? It was hard to tell with this boy. He was a sweet kid most of the time, but very troublesome. There was a lot of talk that surrounded him at the Temple at times. Iza tried to let most of it fall on deaf ears. She did not want to judge a person she did not truly know. It was unfair to do such a thing. She knew how it felt to have others listen to hallway gossip and believe those things to be true. She did not want to do that to poor Anakin.

Something warm touched her leg. It moved in slow, comforting passes against the side of her thigh. When she shifted her hand out of her lap, Obi-Wan’s fingers found hers again. Such a small gesture made such a huge difference in the center of her chest. She did not feel like getting up and running from the diner anymore. She would much rather sit here and silently play with his fingers. It would not be long before FLO was setting a basket of greasy looking fish fillets in front of her. Set on a bed of wilted looking vegetation, they were brown and soggy and did not look very appetizing. Perhaps she could just pick the fried parts off? She would heed Master Qui-Gon’s advice and forgo the tartar sauce as she picked up her fork and began poking at the pieces of fish. After a few moments, she looked over at Obi-Wan and nudged the basket closer.

“Would you like to share?”

He smiled at her and looked down at the greasy mess. She could tell he was trying very hard not to say _no_. She couldn’t blame him. There was a subtle squeeze to her fingers beneath the table before he was pulling his hand free and reaching for the spare fork.

“I suppose a few bites will not kill me.”

~*~*~*~

“Do you have any idea what Quinlan might be doing poking around The Underground?” Obi-Wan asked as he walked beside Qui-Gon, occasionally glancing back over his shoulder to make sure Iza and Anakin were still trailing behind them.

“Nope,” Qui-Gon paused to peer at a stall selling an array of teas. “I have not spoken to him since you two returned from Ragoon VI.”

“Dex would not tell me either. He just said that he was asking about _traders_.”

“Slavers, most likely.” Pointing to a sack of Sapir tea leaves, Qui-Gon went to his waist pouch for the credits. “There has been heavy talk of Twi’lek traffickers lately.”

“And the Council has not done anything?”

“What do you think Quinlan is doing, Obi-Wan?”

The younger Jedi made an irritated noise and shook his head. He had a bad feeling that if Quinlan was on this kind of assignment, it meant that Aayla was with him. It also meant Aayla had likely been used as bait. The last time the Council had given him an assignment like this, Quinlan and Aayla nearly left the Order. His friend still refused to speak on what had happened. He supposed he could understand. Knowing the things he knew about what went on with these slave traders, Obi-Wan would not want to relive any of that either.

“Master Yoda says you’ve petitioned for your own assignment,” giving a nod of thanks to the vendor, Qui-Gon tucked the bag away and rested his hands at the base of his spine before moving on down the walkpath. “Do you think your Padawan is ready for such a thing?”

“She is not a child, Master,” Obi-Wan frowned, giving the other man a look. “You’ve known her as long as I have. You know very well that she’s capable of holding her own.”

“But will she be able to hold her own when _you_ are in danger, my friend?” Qui-Gon’s blue-gray eyes turned to him, a knowing look crossing his features.

“Iza is very mindful of herself.”

“Mm,” Qui-Gon nodded. “And you?”

“What about me?”

“Are you mindful of yourself, Obi-Wan?”

“Exactly what are you asking me, Master?” He could feel himself puffing up again. The prickle of anger started at the base of his neck and arced slowly across his scalp. The _audacity_ his former master had to even quietly assume that he could not keep himself focused was damn near infuriating. He knew how to keep his feelings from clouding his judgements. He’d learned a long time ago how to tune these things out. If he could recall, it had been his _master_ who’d needed a reminder from Yoda to _let go_ of things he should not hold onto. Obi-Wan was absolutely—

“Where is your Padawan?”

Twisting, Obi-Wan turned his head this way and that. He could not see her. He could not see Anakin either. _Gone_. They had been there just a moment ago when he’d checked. How long ago had that been? Not more than a few minutes, he was sure. He knew his girl; she would not just run off like that. Anakin was wild. Qui-Gon often complained in his quiet way about how the boy enjoyed late-night excursions into the city. But Iza would never run off without asking to leave first. She did not have the same desire to know the layout of the city as Anakin. _Careless._ He was such a careless man.

That prickle ran up his neck again, sharper this time. It shot down his spine in a cold, stabbing sensation that filled his whole being with a sense of dread. This was not anger; it was the Force warning him of _danger_. His mind flashed pictures of Iza’s smiling face. Brief glimpses that were not there long enough to grab hold of and study. The warning was for her. Something had happened— _was going to happen_. He did not know what.

The sound of panicked shouts pulled him out of his daze and he felt Qui-Gon rush past him. People were running from somewhere on the opposite walkpath. Blaster fire. His shoulders heaved as his anxiety rose to critical levels and took his breathing with it. He did not think. He just ran.

“ _Iza!_ ”


	7. Keep Your Love Locked Down

“This is boring.” Anakin muttered as he dragged his feet. “They could at least take us to Uscru.”

Iza did not understand why the teen was complaining so much. Most Padawans his age would have just been happy to be outside of the Temple walls after dark. He seemed unhappy to be outside _at all_. He kept stopping to look at things, which made _her_ stop because she’d been told to keep close to him. Further and further they got away from the backs of their masters until she had to crane her neck to see the back of Obi-Wan’s head. She had tried to get her fellow Padawan to catch up so that the two Jedi would not be cross, but he’d ignored her. It seemed he did not care whether her age put her at a superior rank to him or not. In truth, she was not even sure her age mattered at all. A Padawan was a Padawan until they graduated to Knight. She was his equal. If he disobeyed his master, he surely would not listen to _her_.

“What is in Uscru that is so special?” She’d been born on Coruscant, raised in the Temple after she’d been taken from her parents, but Iza knew very little about her home planet. She was content to stay close to where she was meant to be. She’d seen what happened to those who liked to run amok without their master’s permission. Master Windu had not allowed such luxuries, anyway. He preferred to take her to more peaceful areas around the city, of which there were _very_ few. She knew of the kind of things that went on in the lower levels and in some of the other districts, but she’d never witnessed any of it for herself.

“The Outlander, for starters.” The boy spoke like he was a regular to the establishment. As tall as he was, he likely could pass for sixteen if he tried hard enough. Iza still struggled to make people believe she was any older than fifteen at times.

“What do you need to go to a club for?”

“Maybe _you_ should go to one. You might stop being so stuffy.” Giving her a look from the corner of his eye, the younger Padawan snorted and shook his head. “For someone with your reputation, you’re very uptight.”

“My…” Iza stopped in her tracks and stared after him as he continued on. So, the Temple gossip was worse than she imagined. He likely knew of the things that had been said of her before she was sent away. It was probably the reason the boy questioned why she’d returned with Obi-Wan as her master. Those horrible rumors Baabic had started all circulated around him, after all. It would mean that he’d heard the things that were said regarding the two of them as well. As though Iza and Anakin had ever spent much time in each other’s company that was not chaperoned by Master Qui-Gon or Master Windu. This was quite possibly the only time she’d ever been alone with him aside from the trade out between lightsaber lessons.

“Everyone knows you attacked Baabic Loren,” Anakin laughed when she’d finally caught up to him again. “I would have thought you’d be a little more fun to hang out with.”

 _Oh_. **That** reputation.

“I do not make it a habit to strike out at others.” She mumbled, standing on her toes to try and find Obi-Wan in the crowd. She could no longer see him, but Master Qui-Gon’s tall form was still in view. “He angered me.”

“Because he said rude things about Obi-Wan?”

“Why do you care what reason I had?” Turning to frown at the younger boy, Iza wished he was shorter. It was not fair that she had to look up at such an obnoxious boy like this. “He said rude things about _me_. I am allowed to defend myself.”

“Were they true?”

She almost hit him. She almost raised a fist and hit this smug little boy right in his stupid little mouth. If it were not for the fact that she was surrounded by so many people who knew _very well_ that she was a Padawan, and that she likely belonged to one of the Jedi walking just up ahead—Iza would have cracked him right in the cheek.

“That is why Master Windu sent you away, isn’t it?” Anakin did not know when to give up. Either he was very dense, or he just enjoyed riling people up. “Because they were true,”

“If they were true, the Council would not allow Obi-Wan to be my master,”

“But you hold feelings for him?”

“You talk too much. You’re very annoying.” Folding her arms over her chest, Iza started to walk faster in an effort to catch up with their masters. Anakin seemed keen to keep his leisurely pace. She found herself having to check back over her shoulder for him every few seconds. When she glanced back and saw him running off towards one of the crosspaths, she felt panic swell in her chest. She couldn’t let him go, but she didn’t have enough time to alert Master Qui-Gon or Obi-Wan. Turning, she chased after him. “ _Anakin!_ ”

The boy turned his head for a brief second—smiled—and ran faster. Iza had a terrible feeling that he had planned this. She did not know what _this_ was, but it was not good. She weaved between pedestrians as she chased after him, calling out his name. He would not stop. Soon, he was ducking down alleyways and taking her through streets she did not recognize. Iza wished so much that she had a comm link at her belt. Obi-Wan had said she would get one when they went on their first assignment together. They did not need one to go into the city. Perhaps that needed to change. Rounding a corner after Anakin, she skid lightly on loose rubble and stopped when she found herself to be in a vehicle port. She could not see the boy, but she was certain he was here.

“Hey!” His voice rang out near the back end of the lot and he waved his hand as he stood near a fancy looking landspeeder. “Come on, this one is unlocked!”

“Have you gone thermal?!” Just what did he think he was going to do with that car? “You can’t—”

“ _Come on_ ,” he grinned wide as he jumped into the driver’s seat, blue eyes sparkling. “I do this all the time. These old landspeeders are a breeze to jump.”

“ _Anakin!_ ” Iza did not want any part of this. She just wanted to get the boy and go back to Obi-Wan so she would not get into trouble. “You must get out _now!_ ”

“What are you gonna do?” He was already fiddling with something beneath the control dash. “You are not in charge of me.”

“Master Qui-Gon will—”

“Master Qui-Gon is not here,” he looked very impatient now, though he grinned when he got the engine started. “Last chance,”

“Get out of the car, Anakin,” Iza started to storm over, unsure of exactly what her plan would be when she got to him. “This is no way for a Padawan to behave.”

“You wouldn’t know anything about proper Padawan behavior,” the smile on the boy’s face was _nasty_. “Your master gave you up.”

“As will _yours_ if you continue on this way.” Reaching over the top of the door, Iza grabbed for a set of wires he’d fiddled with and pulled. The landspeeder slowly shut down and she heard him swear loudly.

“What did you do?!” Pushing her out of the way, he started checking the wires, crossing them and running his hands through his hair when the vehicle simply would not start again. “You’ve wrecked it!”

“Good,” grabbing him by the sleeve, she started to haul him out of the car when he shoved her off. “ _Skywalker!_ ”

“Go back to your master if you must,” he jumped out of the speeder and began scouting the lot for another one. “I will not be going with you.”

“ _Yes you will_.”

“You can’t make me,” he’d already found a replacement and was climbing into the cockpit. Iza bolted toward him and grabbed his shoulders from behind to drag him out. Both of them fell back onto the pavement of the lot. Above her, Anakin made a frustrated sound and rolled to his feet. Iza followed, grabbing him around his slim waist to haul him back from the car. He twisted in her grip and drove his elbows back. Grunting at the hard jab, the brunette only held tighter and tried to drag him further back from the car. Planting his feet flat on the ground, Anakin stood up as straight as he could—cranking Iza onto her toes—and threw his weight forward to toss her over his shoulders. Iza almost didn’t have enough time to correct herself before she landed, coming down hard on her knees instead of her back. Giving him a foul look, she watched as he started to go for his lightsaber when the sound of blaster fire was heard back towards the market.

Something cold prickled up the back of Iza’s neck and she felt the greasy fish from her supper start to creep up her throat. She could not explain the absolute sense of dread that filled her then, but she also was not about to sit around and try to decipher it either. Twisting in her spot, she took off running with Anakin close behind. Her hand went straight to her lightsaber the closer they got to the sounds of chaos, her thumb barely remembering to turn the power setting back up to normal. She drew the hilt as she dashed out of an alleyway to find herself in the middle of a firefight. Bright red bolts flew from one direction. The flash of a green lightsaber deflected them. A blue one just off to the side was busy fighting off a handful of attackers.

Someone collided with her from behind and knocked her forward into the fray. Instinct had her activating the saber hilt and throwing up a tight guard around herself to avoid the bolts that were aimed in her direction. She did not know where Anakin was. There was little time to build the momentum she needed, but she still whipped the hilt around her knuckles and tried to find the green saber in the chaos. A hand snagged the back of her robes and dragged her around the back of a large, male body. _Quinlan_.

“Little one, you’ve got terrible timing,” he laughed throwing a hand out to send a stack of crates flying towards the array of men carrying blaster rifles. “Where the hell is Obi?”

“I don’t know,” she whirled out to the side and—in a flurry of movements that felt automatic—deflected a series of bolts that had been aimed at Quinlan’s blind spot. “I’ve lost Padawan Skywalker,”

“He’s fine,” the Kiffar sounded irritated as he gestured up ahead with his lightsaber. Anakin seemed to be doing _just fine_ as he attacked the gunmen with his lightsaber. “ _Aayla!_ ”

“I’m here, Master!” A Twi’lek girl close to Iza’s age came rushing up. She sported light bruises along her cheeks and down her neck, but otherwise appeared to be fine. She glanced at Iza for a moment and smiled, giving a quick nod. Her attention was pulled back to Quinlan and her features went hard again. “There are more coming. It’s like they’ve sent the entire damn organization.”

“You’re valuable.” Quinlan grinned wide and turned his hand up. “I knew this wasn’t going to be _peaceful_ , no matter what Windu wanted.”

Iza didn’t know what was happening. She had so many questions. They would have to wait until later.

“Aayla,” Quinlan nudged the two women off to the side and put himself in front of them. “Get her to Obi.”

“Master Quin—”

“I will get the bastard Padawan.” Quinlan muttered with a shake of his head. “ _Go_.”

Iza felt Aayla take her hand and pull her away. She did not know whether she ought to deactivate her lightsaber. They barely got a few feet away when colorful bolts of plasma shot over their shoulders. Iza smelled burning fabric and turned to see that one had grazed the shoulder of her cloak. Beside her, Aayla tightened her grip on her hand to swing her behind her back. The Twi’lek took up a protective stance in front of her and engaged with the man charging up the walkpath with the blaster. Near her feet, Iza noticed a broken bit of durasteel rebar. She clicked her saber off, hung it, picked the bar up and twisted it over her head, bringing it down _hard_ against the side of the man’s face. Both girls looked at one another and smiled briefly before running again.

The brunette stopped very suddenly at a strange feeling in her stomach. _Panic._ Cold and cruel and debilitating, it stung its way up her spine and left her paralyzed to the spot. This feeling did not belong to her. _Where was he?_ She felt Aayla tugging at her arm and she shook her head, twisting to turn and run back towards the fight. She could see two more blue sabers had joined the fight. She recognized the twist and twirl of the saber on the left anywhere. _Obi-Wan_. She charged back into the chaos, twirling the rebar like a deadlier version of the training staffs she’d spent months playing with. There was a man crouched beneath a stack of crates just beyond her master’s line of sight. Iza charged him, swung the bar. The hard _crack_ reminded her of the sound her nose had made the day she’d broken it. He went limp against the boxes and another man popped up just to her left. The bar was just long enough to disarm him from the distance she was at, but he charged at her in his fury.

Aayla’s booted foot knocked him clean into the alleyway. Again, the two girls exchanged a glance and a quick smile. Abandoning the rebar for her lightsaber, Iza moved to join her master. Aayla ran to do the same with Quinlan. She felt Obi-Wan’s spine stiffen when she leaned back into him, rolling her saber hilt over her knuckles while looking around for where the next shot might come from. His free hand shot back and grabbed for hers. She smiled and squeezed his fingers reassuringly, leaning her head back against his shoulder. They did not have the time for this, but she did not want him to panic anymore. Breaking away, they fell into separate battles that drove them into different corners. Blasters gave way to vibroblades and the sheer brute force of melee weaponry. Whoever Quinlan had pissed off, they had a _lot_ of friends. Iza was at the disadvantage of having dueled with her master for a prolonged amount of time earlier in the day. Her body was tiring quickly, though she continued to pull from the Force and from a second source of warmth that surrounded her.

A heavy blow to the back of the shoulders had her on her knees. Her lightsaber fell from her hands, skittered across the walkpath and came to a stop near its precarious edge. She stumbled to her feet to retrieve it, hearing the sound of a small, fragile object fall to the pavement as she moved. Iza watched in horror as the healing crystal Obi-Wan had gifted her bounced along the concrete. As it reached the edge near where her lightsaber lay, she lunged for it. Her fingers closed tight around the warm little crystal, relief flooding her. She hardly even noticed that she’d plunged over the side of the walkpath.

“ ** _IZA_** _!_ ”

Flying.

That’s what this sensation was. Much like being on the speeder bike with Obi-Wan, only there was a sense of _peace_ here. Warm, soothing, comfortable peace. The wind whipped through her hair and made her robes flutter behind her. She should’ve been terrified. With the crystal clutched so tight in her palm, the sharpest points cutting deep into her skin, Iza felt nothing but _peace_.

The hard crash of something warm and strong colliding with her jolted her out of that peaceful state and halted her mid-flight. Up, up, up she went. She heard grunting and soft swearing. Something hard scraped her skin and she was laid out flat on her back. Her eyes came back into focus. Coruscant did not have enough stars.

“ _Iza!_ ” Obi-Wan crouched beside the dazed girl when Quinlan set her down. His friend took deep, heaving breaths and ran his hand back over his locs, a wild look in his eye. That had been too damn close. It would take forever for her to hit the bottom level, but she’d have died before landing anyway. Aayla had been the one to see her go over. Obi-Wan had nearly gone over after her. Foolish bastard. He wouldn’t have made it back up alive.

“Obi-Wan?” Iza’s bleary gaze shifted from the sky overhead, to the panicked face of her master. She smiled and held up the hand still clutching the crystal. “I caught it.”

Obi-Wan looked as though he could’ve punched through concrete. His face went red, twisted; his eyes began filling with horrified tears when he realized she’d tossed herself off the damn ledge for a _crystal_. He sputtered, bringing the back of his wrist to his mouth and sitting down hard beside her. His heart was pounding so hard that it hurt and he was sure that he was going to vomit. He felt slender fingers sliding along the inside of his other wrist, but he could not find enough sense to grab them. Somewhere in his head, he was glad that Qui-Gon had left. His former master had taken Anakin and left the moment they had the right opening to do so. He was sure the boy had been disappointed. Obi-Wan could only think of how he was glad he would not be receiving any stern _looks_ for how he was behaving right now.

“Obi,” Quinlan’s grave tone had him looking up and blinking the tears from his eyes. “You need to go.”

“Yeah,” he needed a minute to collect himself first. He didn’t know if he could stand—if _she_ could stand. She didn’t even seem to realize what was happening. A brush with death would do that to a person. Taking a few deep breaths, he scrubbed his palms over his face and slowly stood up. Looking to Aayla as she approached, he gave a nod of thanks when she handed over Iza’s lightsaber hilt. Hanging it from his belt he looked to the girl lying on the pavement, turning that stupid crystal over in her hand, and bent to pull her to her feet. “Up you get,”

“Master,” she leaned into his chest as she tried to steady herself. Her legs were weak and she felt tired. “I don’t know where Anakin is,”

“He is safe,” giving a nod to Quinlan and Aayla, Obi-Wan turned to start leading Iza out of the area. He would need to treat his friend to a large meal or an entire cask of whiskey. No gift would ever make up for him rescuing Iza, but it would be a start. They walked slowly through the crowds that were still reeling from the commotion. Iza didn’t seem to notice. She kept staring down at that damn crystal. He wanted to take it and throw it off the side of the kriffing walkpath or shatter it at their feet. Instead, he simply kept quiet as they made their way back to where he’d parked the speeder bike behind the diner. He would have to have her sit up front and he would go as slow as legally possible. She would not do well on the back in her state—whatever that _state_ was.

“Master?”

“Mm?”

“Are you angry with me?”

Really, the innocence in her tone should not have set him off the way that it did. Obi-Wan was just wound up so damn tight that he could not control himself. He rounded on her, eyes watering as a baffled expression settled into his features. His breathing picked up and he slowly began to nod.

“Yes. Yes I am _very_ angry with you, Iza,” he would not fall victim to the way her sweet face softened and her eyes went sad. Those things only served to make him angrier. She had no right to be upset. _None_.

“But I…” again, she looked down at the crystal she held. Her lashes fluttered and she looked confused. “I could not just let it fall, Master,”

“ _You_ _stupid girl!_ ” Obi-Wan’s hands came up and tunneled deep into the hair at the sides of Iza’s head, clutching it roughly as he stared her down. His face went red again and new tears rolled down his cheeks. He could not believe how utterly _daft_ this girl was. Gritting his teeth, he let out a harsh breath and gave her a little shake. “The crystal can be _replaced! **I cannot replace you**!_”

Iza let out a startled sob, but he did not let go. If anything, he held on tighter to her as he stared into her face and watched as realization set in. He felt her panic start to sink in and make a home inside of his chest beside his. She was getting it. She understood. She began to shake uncontrollably as fat tears streaked down her face, and she breathed in sharp gasps that sounded like they did not fill her lungs quite enough. His name escaped her lips in a weak whisper and he felt her grab the front of his robes, that damned crystal falling from her fingers to land on the pavement at their feet. He pulled her closer and rested his forehead to hers unable to keep from exhaling harshly when she broke out in hysterical sobs. His hands fell from her hair, arms winding tight around her shoulders to clutch her against his chest. She was whimpering apologies against his cheek. He could not tell if his beard was soaking up more of her tears, or his.

“Foolish girl,” he whispered, wrapping his fingers tight in the material of her cloak before he squeezed her to him. “Careless, idiot girl.”

“I’m sorry,” her hands slid beneath his cloak and clutched at his back. “My Obi-Wan, I am so sorry,”

“What would I do?” His voice was so thick and rough, he barely recognized it as his own. “My girl, what would I _do?_ ”

Iza knew what she was supposed to tell him. She was supposed to tell him the same thing she should’ve _known_ to do. When she saw the crystal bounce over the ledge, she should’ve allowed it to fall. As he’d said, it could be replaced. She could not. What was he supposed to do if she had not been rescued?

He would have to let go, too.

But she could not say this to him. She felt in her heart that he already knew that was what would be expected of him. He was a Jedi. He was a great Jedi. The _greatest_ in her eyes. But she felt it would be asking too much of him to just _let go_ like she’d been some stupid crystal. So, she didn’t say anything. She just leaned her head further into his and shut her eyes. She did not know how long they stayed like that or how many people saw them this way. The diner was still open, after all. Patrons were filing in and out every so often. She could hear the clatter of dishes and the noise of the HoloNet screen from inside each time the door opened. She hoped that anyone who saw them would mind their own business. After a very long time, she felt him breathe a hard sigh and begin to pull back. Her fingers immediately grasped the back of his robes in protest, but Obi-Wan would not have it.

“We must get back to the Temple,” he murmured in that low voice, not looking at her as he drew his head back from hers. “We will be expected to give a briefing on tonight’s events.”

“Why?” Her voice was so tiny but there was little she could do about it. “Surely we don’t have to tell them?”

“Not about this,” he shook his head, stooping to pick up the crystal that had caused so much damn fuss. “About interfering with Quinlan’s work.”

“I did not mean to, Master,” she watched him turn it over in his hand and clean the surface of it with his sleeve. “I was trying to keep Anakin out of trouble.”

“Let the boy do what he wants,” snorting, Obi-Wan pulled her to him by her belt and carefully tucked the crystal back into its pouch, snapping it closed. After a moment, he took her lightsaber from where it hung on his belt and latched it into place where it belonged on hers. “Master Qui-Gon is aware of his street racing habit.”

“Street racing?”

“Mm,” lifting exhausted blue eyes to meet hers, the Jedi reached and carefully took Iza’s hair down from the bun he’d disturbed with his vicious pulling. He hoped he had not hurt her. “The boy was something of a self-proclaimed pod racer when we scooped him from Tatooine. He seems to have brought that hobby with him.”

“I ruined someone’s landspeeder.” Pressing her lips together tightly, Iza ducked her head shamefully. “I was trying to keep him from stealing it. I pulled wires. He got upset.”

“I’m sure he did,” the softest of smiles graced his lips before Obi-Wan was cupping her face, idly stroking her cheek with his thumb. “But that boy is not your responsibility, Iza.”

“I did not want Master Qui-Gon upset with you,”

“He would not have been,”

“I did not want you upset with _me_.”

He kissed her forehead. He’d wanted very much to simply _kiss_ her, but he could not. Even as everything in him screamed to just go ahead and do it, he knew he could not cross that boundary. Holding her hand, leaning on her the way he did, trading secret smiles—those were things he could do. He should not even be doing _this_ and he knew it. But Obi-Wan could not stand this much longer. He’d felt his heart drop from his chest when she’d gone over the side of that ledge. Thank the Force for the fact that Quinlan was as quick and agile as he was. He surely would have died trying to go after her like that. He hadn’t even been able to _move_. Master Qui-Gon’s question of whether or not he was _mindful_ of himself when it came to her would surely haunt him for a long time now.

“ ** _I_** would not have been,” he said quietly, resting his forehead in the spot his lips had been moments before. “My girl, I know I promised you an adventure, but I think—”

“Please don’t,” her hands slid around to his chest to grasp the front of his robes again. “Please do not take away our chance to leave this place, Master,”

“Darling, it will not be the same as it was before,” running his fingers into her long hair, he tucked some of it behind her ear. “It would be an assignment. It would be dangerous. It will not be something peaceful.”

“I don’t care,” shaky fingertips brushed his bearded jaw and swept up along his cheek. “I miss you.”

“Iza,” he wanted to drive home the point that what she was asking for would put even more stress on his anxiety. But _Force_ —he couldn’t deny that he wanted off this damn planet and away from the Temple, too. Perhaps there was a way he could simply just take her on another training excursion. They could go back to Ragoon VI, or go elsewhere. Somewhere that they could be by themselves for a while, even if it was just to soak in the sweetness of each other’s company.

“I will take your Jar’Kai lessons. I will do whatever you ask.” Her pleading would do him in. “I will go wherever you wish for us to go. _Please, Master,_ ”

“You must stop,” Obi-Wan laughed breathlessly and rubbed his thumb across the swell of her cheek. “I have already asked the Council for an assignment. If they do not grant us one, we must accept that. It is out of my control, my girl.”

“Can’t Master Qui-Gon—”

“I regret to say that Master Qui-Gon will be of no help in this matter. He… has formed his own opinions.” Letting out a sigh, Obi-Wan lifted his head away from hers to glance into the diner to check the clock on the wall. They needed to get back. It would look terribly suspicious if they were not behind the walls soon. “Iza, I’m afraid our night out must end here.”

The look that crossed her face broke his heart. She became so horribly sad that he very nearly gave her the one thing he _knew_ was on her mind. It had been on his with all of this sudden closeness. Instead, he smiled warmly and gave the point of her chin an affectionate pinch, leveling their gazes when she tried to look away from him.

“Would you like to take more walks like this? We can explore the night market more thoroughly next time, without Quinlan’s damn interruptions.”

“Is it allowed?”

“What did I say?” He chuckled and pursed his lips. “You are not a child. You may leave the Temple with me whenever I see fit to take you somewhere.”

“Will I have to ride on the back of that evil thing?” Gesturing to the speeder bike, Iza smiled faintly at the laugh she got from him. It felt nice to be pulled into his arms and squeezed against his chest.

“Would you like me to teach you to drive it?” He offered, tilting his head. “You may feel differently about riding on the back once you’ve gotten used to being up front.”

“Should you not be focusing on more practical lessons, my Master?”

“It is a practical lesson.” He shrugged. “You should know how to operate a vehicle at your age. Do you even know how to fly a starfighter?”

“No,” Iza’s cheeks colored lightly and he tutted at her. “Do not patronize me, Master. I can fly a pod.”

“You may as well tell me you can ride a scooter. A pod is the most basic of craft, my dear.” Obi-Wan gave a teasing look and grunted when she swatted his shoulder. Making a face, he rubbed the spot and held up his finger. “You really ought not to do that. Striking your master will not look good to others.”

“I’m sure they will understand when they learn my master is _exceptionally_ cheeky.”

“I only jest, my Padawan. But it is true that you should not do a thing like that.” Giving her a nudge, he steered her towards the speeder bike. “It is quite disrespectful.”

“I’m sorry, Master,” Iza ducked her chin a little. “I do not mean to show you any disrespect. I too, was simply jesting.”

“I understand that, but others may not.”

“Yes Master,”

“Good girl,” he squeezed her shoulder and sighed. “Well, would you like to sit up front this time?”

“Yes.”

Obi-Wan nodded and moved to mount up on the speeder bike, scooting back some in order to make room for her. This was not the safest way to get her back to the Temple, nor the easiest, but if it would make her comfortable then so be it. He offered his hand and waited while she gathered her cloak in close before she climbed on and settled herself just in front of him. Leaning carefully against her back, he gestured to a crossbar just below the navigation panel.

“You may hold onto that. I will go slowly. If you feel unsafe at any moment, just lean back into me. I promise, I will not let you fall.”

“Okay.”

He reached around her to get to the starter, letting out a soft snort at the way she jumped. _Silly thing_. She would get used to it eventually. He backed the bike out of its space and carefully took to the street. He kept to his word about traveling slowly, but he couldn’t help noticing that Iza leaned back into him anyway. He took the opportunity to rest against her back and gently set his chin on her shoulder. She felt a lot calmer, though she still flinched a few times when he made a couple turns that were—admittedly—on the sharp side. Soon enough, they were pulling in to the Temple hangar and he was parking the bike in its proper place. Sighing as he shut it down, Obi-Wan offered his hand to her once more to help her dismount.

“You look exhausted,” he couldn’t say he blamed her. He was quite ready to pass out, too. “You should get to bed.”

“What about the debriefing?” She frowned as she watched him climb off of the bike, waiting for his prompt before she began walking in the direction of the Temple’s entrance.

“I think I can convince Master Yoda to let you get some rest.”

“What if it’s not Master Yoda who requests it?”

Obi-Wan snorted. He knew she was worried that it might be Master Windu who would ask for their input. He was sure that the two had not had any contact at all since she’d been back at the Temple. He supposed he could not blame her for that. He would not want to face the person who had decided they were not worth their time and effort anymore.

“Then whoever it is can wait. You are _my_ Padawan and I have deemed you far too tired to give a good report.” Shrugging, he gave her a look and a light nudge in the direction of the dormitories once they’d gotten inside.

“Will you walk with me?”

 _Oh_ , he wished she would not push like this. Not only because of how damn suspicious this was already going to look, but because he just could not find it in him to say _no_. He didn’t say anything. He just rested the tips of his fingers between her shoulders and guided her further into the building. They didn’t speak. They didn’t look at one another. Tempted as they were, they did not touch hands. The guards were standing post and Obi-Wan did not trust a single one of them not to have something to say about it. They took the long way to the dormitories, which proved to be a bad idea since Iza had begun to drag her feet before they even got to the wing where her chamber was. He let her lean on his side then, keeping his arm around her shoulders to make the embrace appear friendly and chaste. When they reached her door, he was glad he’d gone with her. She was almost asleep against his chest, eyes drooped to half-mast as her head nodded with the effort of trying to keep it up.

“Iza my dear,” he whispered, watching her lift her head and blink at him. He smiled and nudged her from her spot, gesturing to her door. Her sleepy grunt made him laugh and he waited while she got the door open, briefly glancing into the room.

“Goodnight, Master Obi-Wan.”

“Goodnight, my dear.”

~*~*~*~

“Have you found it?” Obi-Wan asked with a faint smile as he sat near the slowly freezing doorway. As beautiful as this sacred place was, he absolutely despised how cold it was. Making the journey to Ilum was certainly not his favorite part of being a Jedi. But Iza needed a kyber for her second hilt—the parts of which sat in a box on their starship just outside the temple—and it was his duty as her Master to accompany her out here in order to get it.

“Yeah,” she smiled back and nodded, holding the crystal up between her fingers. She had a bit of a haunted look to her face and didn’t appear to want to look at him directly. He wondered if she’d seen something. It wasn’t uncommon for a Jedi or a Padawan to have strange visions in this place. Younglings who came here for the Gathering Ritual were known to experience some rather nightmarish things as a sort of _trial_ when seeking their first crystals out. In any case, he would not bother her about it unless she chose to share. Following her out of the temple, Obi-Wan walked a short ways ahead in order to get the ramp down. “Master?”

“Yes?” He paused, turning. Iza was staring down at the crystal in her hand with a soft frown on her lips. She looked almost upset. Worried, maybe. “Iza, is something wrong?”

“The temple cave only shows us our fears, right?” Green eyes shifted to level with his. “That’s what Master Yoda told my group when I was a youngling. The things we see here are meant to make us face our fears or overcome what we believe to be our biggest faults.”

“It has been up for debate, but yes. My dear,” he stepped forward and set a hand on her arm. “The things you see in this cave are not visions. They are meant to make you reflect upon yourself. That is all.”

Iza seemed to relax a little at this but that haunted look did not go away. He almost wished she would tell him what she saw. Instead, she moved past him up the ramp to head into the starship. Trailing behind her, he watched curiously as she wandered down the hall to the sleeping quarters and disappeared inside. He would give her privacy. Even if she was simply going inside to work on the construction of her new saber hilt, she would need uninterrupted concentration. Closing the ramp, he shed his thick coat and hung it in the small closet, peeling his gloves off to shove them into the pockets. He was not sure if he ought to wait to get them off of the planet or not. The journey back to Coruscant was not terribly long, especially if he were to use the hyperdrive. He had promised her a bit of time to themselves, but he was no longer sure if she wanted it.

The least he could do was turn the heating unit on. The place was damn cold. He was in the middle of flipping switches and getting the starship on when he felt a sense of horrible sadness in his chest. It was the same kind of thing he’d felt during their last few days on Ragoon VI. He’d become relatively certain that Iza had heard his conversation with Quinlan—although she would not confirm this and neither would his friend. He wondered why she suddenly felt this way again. Turning to look down the hall of the starship, he closed his eyes and focused on her. She was not meditating. She was not even making attempts to put her new hilt together. She was crying. Obi-Wan got up from his seat and wandered down the corridor and hesitated before he gently knocked.

“I’ll be out soon,” she was trying desperately to sound normal. He’d learned how to recognize that tone.

“Iza,” leaning on the doorframe, Obi-Wan tried not to sigh. “Would you like to talk about it?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

He tried the door. She’d locked it. Of course. Taking a deep breath, he looked up at the ceiling and tried not to swear. She was making him do this more and more these days. He wasn’t sure he minded. Sometimes it was in frustration, sometimes in moments of happiness. Tutting, he looked back at the door.

“Would you like to see the lights, my dear?”

Silence. He thought he heard shuffling around on the other side but he couldn’t be sure. The distinct sound of the locking mechanism clicking free made him smile and he waited until the door slid open before pushing away from the frame. Iza stared at him with a pair of dreadfully sad eyes that were wet with tears. Her cheeks—already pink from the cold—had become even more flushed and she was doing that pitiful thing with her bottom lip that made it jut out further than her chin. She had not even removed her coat yet. Reaching out, Obi-Wan began to unfasten the buttons until she could shrug out of it. He tossed it on the bench seat behind them and gestured for her to take her gloves off. When she’d removed them, he tossed them on top of the coat and led her into the sleeping chamber.

Taking up a spot on the floor, Obi-Wan sat cross-legged and smiled warmly as he took her hand to pull her down onto his lap. Iza leaned back against his chest and got herself settled in the correct position. They laced their fingers and he rested his chin against the top of her head. They both closed their eyes and began to breathe in unison. Obi-Wan could feel her sagging back against him. She needed a lot of support today. He could give it to her. He would press his chest forward and hold her in a straighter position while the room melted away around them. As both of their heads became lighter from the slow, unsteady breathing, the promised lights swirled in from the Force around them. The darker blue was dull today. The paler blue was happy to twist and slowly blend into it and allow it to borrow its light.

They were not supposed to do this. Obi-Wan hadn’t even properly explained what it was to her yet. It was most certainly a meditation technique, as had been the backbone version he’d initially shown her. But this was not a technique meant to be shared between Master and Padawan. There were many versions of this technique and he’d been very careful of which ones he’d shown her. _Runi_ was not a thing to play with lightly. If done the wrong way, it could cause immense emotional stress or physical reaction. Iza’s complaints of being _hot_ the day he’d shown her the backbone technique was one such reaction. He could only wonder what she would think if she knew that this was a _Lover’s_ meditation technique. He had not thought it to be harmful when he’d initially introduced her to it. They had bonded through the Force. He could not see much of a difference as long as they kept to the things that would not lead to crossing boundaries. Besides—it seemed to relax her and make her happy when she was deeply upset. No one was the wiser and it gave them a chance to have their _together_ moments.

As they sat and watched the light of their Force energy dance in front of their collective mind’s eyes, Obi-Wan became aware of just how quick their breathing had gotten. They’d never held a session this long before. He tried to keep to a maximum of five minutes, if possible. He had gotten lost in his thoughts. Iza’s palms were flattening against his and she kept leaning back into his chest. The twin lights were no longer in sight. It was one bright blur of blue. He panted and pushed against her back, fingertips sliding along the length of her outstretched fingers. The light brightened, blinded them, covered them; it sealed them in a veil that made their skin tingle and suffocated them. As it began to fade and split back into two colors again, they spun slowly around one another like coils of smoke. The lights dimmed slowly and the room came back into focus.

Iza was almost wheezing in his lap, whimpering quietly and shivering. Obi-Wan was afraid to move. Sweat coated his forehead and dripped down the back of his neck. An ache throbbed low in his pelvis and he was terrified that she would move and become aware of something she should not. Her head slid to his shoulder and her hands gripped his tight. From the corner of his eye, he could see the point of her tongue coming out to wet her bottom lip. _Force_ —he needed to focus on something else.

“Obi-Wan,” she sounded so strained, so damn _needy_. The tone of her voice had that ache growing worse.

“Mm?” He didn’t trust himself to speak. Iza turned her head. Her lips brushed his neck. Burned his skin. He let out a harsh breath through his nose and gripped her hands hard enough to make her gasp. “Iza,”

“Please?”

“We cannot,” he shook his head. He didn’t dare look at her. He knew how terrible his resolve was when she pleaded for simple things. If she pleaded for this, he was a dead man. She pressed her face in the crook of his neck and whined low. Her breath was hot on his skin and sent a chill down his back. He’d been an idiot to do this in a place so full of Force energy. He had only wanted to help. He only ever wanted to help.

“ _Obi-Wan_ ,”

“Iza, _we cannot_ ,” shutting his eyes, he turned away from her. This was his second mistake. Her head dropped back on his shoulder and a whimper sounded in his ear. It was soft and needy and quiet, but it deafened him. It was becoming hard to ignore the way she had begun twisting in his lap. He had to shake his hands free to still her hips. “ _Stop_ ,”

His third mistake was giving back her hands. She reached up and ran the back of her hand down the side of his face, traced a fingertip over his bottom lip. He tried to ignore her as she reached further back and slid her fingers into his hair. The scratch of her nails on his scalp sent a tingle all through him to pool into the deep heat in his pelvis. Her mouth brushed his neck again and Obi-Wan thought he might crack. Only the thought of how they could not go back from a thing like this kept him from giving in.

“Iza,” he grit his teeth, trying to decide whether he wanted to continue holding her hips still or to trap those damn hands of hers. “This cannot happen,”

“I can feel you,”

_Oh Force._

“That… you…” Obi-Wan did not know how he was meant to respond to that. In another situation, he might have simply rolled her beneath him and given her what it was she pleaded for. In another time and place, he may do just that. Now was not that time. Here was certainly not that place. He would not be showing her the lights again after this. “You must… ignore that.”

Her hand dropped from his hair and hit his shoulder limply. She continued to nuzzle at his skin to try and sway his decision in her favor. He felt her sigh heavily against his neck and sag against his chest with a whine.

“You will not even look at me,” he hated that pitiful tone. Hated what it was doing to him. “Are you that ashamed of what you feel, Obi-Wan?”

 _Yes_. He was damn ashamed of himself for this. She had told him before that she’d never even had thoughts of things like this. To hear her beg and plead for something she never entertained the idea of before this moment made him feel like some kind of pervert. Had this happened naturally— _maybe_. But that was still a very _big_ maybe.

“You are not this cruel in my dreams.”

He wanted to die. He did not need to hear these things. Damn Quinlan for being right to warn him. Damn that man to whatever hell wanted to take him. He would never partake in any sort of Runi with _anyone_ ever again after this. Lesson learned.

“Obi-Wan!” She thudded her head against his shoulder _hard_ and finally drew his attention, if only because it had startled him. As he’d predicted, he wished he’d never looked. Her pretty eyes were dilated and shined with the kind of needy look that they should not have held for him. The flush on her cheeks was a soft, rosy pink that was different from what had been there when she’d cried before. Her full mouth pouted at him— _called to him_ —and he swore she poked her bottom lip out further just to taunt him. She lifted her hand again and brushed her fingertip against the curve of his chin, scratched her nails through his beard and drew a growl from his throat.

“Iza…” he warned. He would get up and leave if he had to. He did not want this on his conscience.

“A kiss?” She angled her head in a way that made her look far more innocent than he knew she was in that moment. It angered him. He set his jaw and started to shake his head. The way her face fell put an ache in his chest that he’d been dreading. He could not stand how kriffing _weak_ he was for her. He tried to shift his gaze elsewhere again and felt her hand fall away. She’d stopped her wriggling, too. She sagged into his chest in a defeated manner and he felt like such a bastard. Her breathing was picking up. A familiar prickling sensation had started in his belly. He wished she wouldn’t. That was so unfair.

“Don’t cry,” his voice was as soft as he could make it in that moment. He did not want to make her feel as though it was a command. He just wanted to spare himself of one more thing that would make him feel guilty. “My girl, you _must_ understand…”

“I _don’t_ ,” she whimpered with a shake of her head. “I don’t understand at all. You do such sweet things. You smile at me the way you do. You’ve made me feel this way and… you say _no?_ ”

“There are boundaries, Iza. We must not cross them.”

“Perhaps you should not share a lover’s bond with me the way that you do, then,” Iza scoffed bitterly and rubbed at her cheek. “You and your _kriffing_ lights.”

He tensed, wondering how long she’d known. Upon hearing her equally bitter laugh, he glanced at her.

“You truly do think me a child, don’t you?” She was pinching her mouth, but he couldn’t tell if it was to stop her jaw from wobbling or to keep from scowling. “You think of me as some naïve little girl, incapable of learning on her own. I do not need you to hold my hand the entire way, _my Master_. I do know how to read.”

Obi-Wan did not know where she might have learned of the true nature of the technique. As far as he knew, the archives did not hold any information that would be available to a Padawan. Quinlan was not _that_ much of a busybody to tell her. There were Mandalorian texts that may have some information, but it would be minimal. She had sought this out purposely. He had no idea she even knew the true name of the technique. Naïve little girl, she was not.

“I know you’re not a child, Iza,” he said quietly, taking a deep breath. “Even still, you are my apprentice. We cannot—”

She rolled out of his lap to get to her feet and walked the short distance to the cot. He watched while she dropped onto it and curled up into a tight ball. Her shoulders shivered and he felt that urge to swear again. He had a choice to make here. He could go and comfort her, or he could leave her to her tears and get them back to Coruscant. They were not on much of a time limit, but he did not want to take more time than what would be considered necessary. Iza was not a youngling; her journey through the temple would not take nearly as long to retrieve a crystal. Chewing at his tongue, he ran his fingers through his hair and looked over at her.

“Iza,”

“You should have let me fall. It would be kinder than what you’re doing now.”

He could not breathe. It was as though someone had sucked all of the air out of the room. She could not truly believe this? Surely, she was just hurt? It made him so sick to play those words back over in his head. And she thought _he_ was cruel for denying her. She was twice as cruel for wishing such a thing. He had not been able to sleep for almost a week after that incident. He just kept seeing her pitch forward off the crosspath into oblivion. Rubbing a palm over his face, he got to his feet and swayed a little. Again, he looked over at her. She had not budged even a single bit. He turned to go. He could not do this. He made it about as far as the corridor before he’d heard her let out one of those stupid sobs of hers. Damn her. He could not even be allowed to properly be upset with her.

Pivoting, Obi-Wan stalked back into the room and crawled onto the cot behind her. He slid his arms around her and pulled her back against his chest. She didn’t fight him. He tucked his chin against the top of her head and let out a growling huff of breath, squeezing her hard.

“You do not understand,” he whispered, listening to the wet way she breathed. “I do not do these things to be cruel to you, my girl.”

“But you _are_. You are so damn cruel.” Iza dropped her head and buried her face in his arms.

“As are you,” he shut his eyes and let out a heavy sigh. “You cannot say these things to me, Iza.”

“I cannot do _anything_ , according to you.”

“You say these things to hurt me on purpose,” Obi-Wan frowned hard. “I am not intentionally cruel to you.”

“You don’t consider teaching me how to use the basics of _Runi_ and then telling me I cannot have what comes of it _intentionally cruel?_ ”

“Where did you even—”

“I asked Madame Jocasta Nu for a book on Mando’a translations.” Iza shrugged a shoulder and sniffled. “I looked for meditation books after that. You should know better, Master Obi-Wan. I learned how to break down my research into branches from _you_.”

He smiled. He couldn’t help it. A soft chuckle followed and he gave her a gentle, affectionate squeeze.

“You’re a smart girl.” He murmured. “You always have been.”

“You make me feel so stupid.” The brunette swallowed hard and breathed shakily.

“It is not my intention,”

“You say that I don’t understand when it is _you_ who does not understand. I would give you anything, my Master. Anything you asked. My heart, my body, my life—it would be yours if you asked.”

“I know,” he tucked his head into the crook of her neck and breathed a deep sigh. “I understand completely, Iza. But you _must_ know why I cannot ask these things of you.”

“You needn’t even _ask_. They are already _yours_.”

“Iza,” he didn’t know what to say. What was he _supposed_ to say to that? It wasn’t as though he didn’t already know. She made it clear as day to him whenever she got the chance.

“I wish sometimes you had not taken me as your Padawan.” She sounded so damn _sad_ as she said it. “But even then, I know you would still say _no_.”

Picking his head up, Obi-Wan stared at her.

“And why do you say this?”

“Because it’s true.”

He shifted on the cot and turned her so she lay on her back. Frowning down at her, he gave a slow shake of his head and idly trailed his fingertip along the curve of her chin.

“You don’t know that.” Even _he_ didn’t know it. But if the way he fell apart whenever she was upset or bent to her will when she really pushed him was anything to go by, Obi-Wan was pretty sure he’d say anything but _no_ to her if she were not his Padawan. Watching as she studied him, he noted the way she lightly tilted her head up into the brush of his finger. It did not matter how often he took her into his arms, she always seemed so touch-starved with him. He didn’t know whether to find it endearing or not. Admittedly, it was sometimes cute to see the way she’d simply melt into the brush of a hand on her cheek or how her face lit up when he’d touch her hand. But it was another one of those things he knew was nothing but trouble.

“Do you care for me?” She asked quietly, green eyes flicking all up and down his face. Obi-Wan nodded and smiled slowly.

“I do.”

“How?” _How had he known she’d ask?_

For a moment, he said nothing. He just continued to gaze down at her and trace his finger over her soft skin. He barely even realized he was shifting beside her before he was lowering his head. His nose brushed hers lightly. His eyes slid slowly shut. Tentatively, he pressed his lips to hers in a gentle kiss. He felt her purse her mouth upward into his and heard a soft sound rise in her throat. He moved on the bed again, bringing a hand up to smooth the hair away from her face. His lips parted and caught her lower lip between them. They parted again and he nudged closer, urging her to open up to him. She did. The sound she made when he eased his tongue past her lips would ring in his ears for hours. She followed his lead and he felt her hand on his face. Those damn nails of hers dragged through his beard and he could not stop the harsh sound he made. He heard her snicker and he pulled back just enough to shake his head. He could not keep away for long.

Obi-Wan lost track of how long they lay there and lazily kissed one another. He had begun to show her little tricks here and there. He’d nibble at her full lower lip and she would clumsily bite his in return. When they’d gotten comfortable enough, he’d fully explored the inside of her mouth with his tongue. She’d done the same. He was a fan of how eager she seemed to be. She’d always been this way, he supposed. He had noticed an increase in her breathing somewhere around the time he’d crawled over her and settled against her for a more comfortable experience. The soft way she sighed into his mouth as they’d started lightly pawing at one another drove him nuts. They could not take this very far. He was still adamant about that.

“Darling,” he murmured in between kisses that had started becoming quite sloppy. “You know we mustn’t,”

“Can we keep our clothes on?” Her teeth grazed over his chin and he felt what little was left of his resolve shatter and disappear somewhere into the Force. That had not been an option he’d considered. His filth ridden brain had gone straight to getting her out of her robes and breaking every last boundary they had left to break at this point.

“Just this once,” _he was such a damn fool_. “And we keep our clothes _on_.”


	8. I Can't Say No to You

Losing a few layers had not hurt. The belts and boots and tabards were bothersome and were not as essential to keep in place. It was when sashes and outer robes came loose and tunics came untucked that Obi-Wan knew they were toeing a line not meant to be crossed. But he could not resist the way she whimpered his name against his lips and he’d missed the sight of her soft body after so many weeks of having it hidden from his eyes again. He would not let her remove her trousers, and her under-tunic was only pushed up and out of the way to allow his mouth to leave sinful kisses along the dip in her waist and across her sternum. He’d long since thrown his tunic somewhere in the room at her request. Her slender fingers left hot, tingling trails in their wake when she’d run them down his chest. It killed him to look at her face and see a mixture of curiosity, nervousness and arousal plain as day in her features. It reminded him of how careful he needed to be. Aside from rules that needed to remain unbroken, there were _other_ boundaries here that he had to be mindful of not crossing. Despite how Iza’s body might respond to every touch and kiss, if she was not truly _ready_ then it would not be fun for either of them.

He also had to be careful about the kind of kisses he left on her neck. Her robes only went up so high. The lecherous bastard in him told him she could meditate with the crystal he’d given her and she would be good as new. The rational side tried to convince him that leaving love bites would only encourage more bad behavior. Her hips had jumped at the first gentle scrape of his teeth over a tender spot below her ear. Her nails bit deep into his lower back and pulled him tight against one of her thighs. She made a sound he could not describe but instantly needed more of. He marked her. Against his better judgement, he pressed closer and sucked lightly at the patch of skin. His teeth were unforgiving but he soothed the hurt with slow passes of his tongue and sweet murmurs. She was a shaking mess by the time he was done and she kissed him so hard he worried she’d split his lip with her teeth. He allowed her a turn at his neck, chuckling at the eager way she attempted to mimic what he’d done. He’d rolled onto his back, draped her across his chest and tilted his head for her. She was a quick learner. They would both need to use that crystal.

Her hips never seemed to stop moving against him, he noticed. Even if he attempted to still them with his hands, she would fight against his hold and twist until she could rock against one of the legs he’d parked between her thighs. He supposed he couldn’t blame her. If what she’d said was true about her dreams, she must’ve expected more than this. He fought with himself over the idea of _more_. Obi-Wan would remain firm on the rule about keeping their kriffing pants on. He was not willing to take that step. Not now. Not _yet_. But as Iza sank her sharp teeth into his shoulder and pawed her hand down his chest, pushing her needy little hips against him in such a way that it made him growl—he began working out ways around the rule. He started by turning her on her back again, covering her and using a knee to part her legs. When she tensed and stared at him, he paused and silently questioned her. His thumb stroked the swell of her hip in slow circles and he waited patiently until she leaned up and caught his mouth in a soft, sweet kiss. She relaxed. He smoothed his hand from her hip up to her waist and across the surface of her belly. He felt the shudder of her muscles beneath his palm and slowly, he shifted to tuck his fingers over the notch between her thighs.

“ _Obi-Wan_ ,”

He could not tell if she was startled or excited. Drawing his head back to look at her, he raised an eyebrow in another silent question. He would stop if she asked. She did not. Instead, she bit down on her bottom lip and gave a very nervous looking smile. Her face was so flushed and her eyes were so dilated he could hardly see the green in them anymore. She tilted her head up and brushed her mouth against his chin, tipping her hips up. He took that as the cue he needed. Resting his forehead to hers, he rubbed her slowly through the linen of her trousers. Iza sucked in a shaky breath and tensed for a half second before a loud, mewling moan left her throat. The sound sent strong shivers down Obi-Wan’s back and he had to fight not to put more pressure behind his touch. He needed to start slow and be gentle until he knew for certain she was comfortable. It would not take long. She rocked up into the touch and grasped the thin blanket spread out on the cot beneath them. She tried to kiss him and could not hold his mouth for long. She surprised him when she set shaking fingers against his wrist and urged him to slide his hand beneath her trousers.

“Iza,” he hesitated. Even when she kissed him and pleaded in a soft, desperate tone, he remained unsure. He tried putting more pressure behind the passes of his fingers and it seemed to work for a moment, but still she begged. Obi-Wan felt torn. It did not _technically_ break the rule of removing her pants. But it was most definitely a step beyond what he’d expected her to ask from him. He shut his eyes when she started leaving little biting kisses along his jaw, unable to stop from groaning. His hand shifted. He tucked it down the front of her trousers. Oh— _Force_. If he had any doubts about how _unready_ she might’ve been for this, they had all gone out the window now. His fingertips slid easily over slick flesh and she shuddered against him, hips bucking as she gasped and buried her face in his shoulder. She gripped his arm painfully tight and he paused. “Darling?”

“ _Please,_ ” her voice was a harsh rasp in his ear. How could he say no? Dropping his head to kiss her shoulder, he moved his fingers in slow passes like before, taking care to give gentler sweeps when he passed over the sensitive nub near the top of her sex. He experimented with different pressures, noting the changes in the way she’d pull at him and the heavier sounds that she made. With his free hand, he tugged her under-tunic up over her chest and watched the way her eyes widened. He thought at first that she might pull it back down. But she only ran her fingers through his hair and down along the side of his face. Again, she surprised him by guiding his head down and he almost grinned at the whimper that followed the first press of his lips to her skin. As with everything else, he was gentle and slow with his pace, peppering little kisses to one of the soft mounds of flesh before tentatively brushing his mouth against a stiff peak. She drew her bottom lip between her teeth and exhaled harshly. The hand resting on his face swept back into his hair; _pulled_ it. He stilled the passes of his fingers and shut his eyes, holding his breath. He should scold her. He should warn her. She did _not_ know what that did to him.

“Iza, my darling,” his voice was damn rough as he spoke. He adjusted where his hips were nestled against her side, groaning low as he did. “You must not... _don’t pull_.”

“Why?” She pushed her hips up into his touch, trying to encourage him to continue. He would. He just needed a minute.

“I told you,” he kissed his way across the center of her chest to her other breast and nuzzled at it. “We cannot let this go too far.”

“Hasn’t it already?”

 _Force_. He did not want to admit that she might have a point. He had said they needed to keep their robes in place. Half of them were strewn about the starship floor. He’d sworn not to do more than kiss and perhaps let his hands reacquaint themselves with her curves. Now he was marking her neck with love bites and kissing and nuzzling her breasts while pleasuring her with his fingers. He had noticed that she’d begun shifting against the front of his trousers as well. That had a _lot_ to do with why he’d become so lax in his judgements. They still had one _very_ big boundary ahead of them and he still had enough time to make sure they did not cross it. But Obi-Wan had a terrible feeling he would not have much of a say in that decision for long. Already he’d begun the passes of his fingers again—he had found himself missing the sounds she’d been making for him—and he was fighting the urge to bury his face against the soft skin of her breasts. He could not think of her as a Padawan in this moment. Hard as he tried, she was just _Iza_. His girl—his silly, careless, darling girl.

**_His._ **

“Are you _sure?_ ” He asked quietly, picking his head up to look at her before he paused the motions of his fingers once again. She stared back at him like she had not expected him to ask. “We cannot go back from this, darling,”

Iza cupped his face, pulled him in. Her kiss was soft and deliberate and it warmed his chest in a way he hadn’t expected. It startled him and he tried not to let it show when she pulled back and nuzzled her nose across his.

“I do not want to go back. I only want _you_ , my Obi-Wan.”

“As long as you are _sure_ ,” he pressed forward and kissed her sweetly, unable to handle the emotion in her words. It wasn’t as though he didn’t share the sentiment. He did. He truly did. He just did not know how to say it. It was why she was given soft touches and warm smiles instead of sweet words. He felt his actions spoke for themselves. At times—perhaps—he ought to take a page from her and _speak_ the things he felt instead so he would not cause her such grief. But Obi-Wan had always been better at _showing_ rather than _telling_.

“Are _you?_ ”

He smiled. His forehead came to rest in the center of hers and he gave a quiet hum. He reached his free hand up and gently grasped her jaw, fingers stroking at her skin. He stole another gentle kiss, lingering long enough to lure her into a deeper one that led to him starting up the slow slide of his fingers between her thighs again. He grinned against her mouth when she whined into his, gingerly biting her bottom lip before he pulled back.

“Yes darling. I’m very sure.” To hell with it. They could learn to hide it. They’d learned how to hide everything else. What was one more thing? “Just mind yourself and _do not **pull**_.”

“You still have not told me _why_ ,” Iza made a face at him and nudged her nose against his cheek affectionately.

“Because I want to be gentle with you,” he stole tiny kisses, his free hand sliding into her hair as the one between her thighs swept higher and idly circled the sensitive little nub. She arched and let out a shivery cry, dropping her hand from his hair to his shoulder to grip it tight. Relenting, he went back to the slow passes instead. “I want you to be honest and tell me if you become uncomfortable, darling.”

“I shall.”

“Let’s get this off of you,” he slipped his hand free of her trousers, pressing his lips together at the near-devastated way she whined at him. He did not even try to stop his chuckle as he kissed her to pacify her, his hands going to the hem of her under-tunic to begin tugging it up and off of her. “Do not be so impatient. I have not finished with you.”

Iza only pouted at him. He kissed her pout and worked his way down her neck to her breasts again. He could not believe how damn _soft_ she was. His hands found her hips and held them, thumbs going back to their gentle kneading. His mouth found a stiff, sensitive peak and teased it with his bottom lip, then his tongue. She squirmed and whimpered, fingers once again finding a home in his hair. The quietest of pleas left her lips. He shut his eyes and drew the tip into his mouth; sucked greedily, making hungry noises against her flesh. Iza could not keep still. Her legs shifted on the bed, thighs squeezing together as impatient moans rose in her throat. He switched sides. His teeth grazed the sweet point first, his tongue following in a slow sweep to wet it—he breathed on her in shallow pants and glanced up until he saw something flicker dangerously in her eyes. Obi-Wan _smiled_.

He dipped and angled his head, pressing hard kisses over her ribs and down along her sternum. Shifting on the bed as he worked lower, he felt the way she tensed and heard her draw in a sharp breath. Again, he paused and picked his head up.

“Don’t stop,” she sounded even more impatient than before. He wondered if she even knew his intentions. She likely did. It was not as though these things were not _discussed_ among her agemates. There were some who had experienced them; some who _bragged_ to their peers. It was unbecoming of the future Jedi, he thought. One did not kiss and tell. It was all well and good to pass on information—but to boast so freely was indecent. He pushed these thoughts from his head and hummed softly at her, resuming the scattered kisses. Trailing them to one hip, he felt a strong urge to mark the surface. He did. The way she squirmed and gasped at the drag of his teeth and strong pull of his mouth made him growl. She was going to break him. He would have such a difficult time remaining gentle if she did not stop her belly-burning noises. His hands found the waist of her trousers and tugged them off. He wished he could take his off. They were becoming quite irritating at this point.

Iza suddenly seemed to become shy. Her legs squeezed shut and she pulled them up a little. Her arms had crossed over her chest to hide her breasts from his eyes. He could feel her nervousness as it began to spread along the bond they shared. Patiently, he smiled. Bowing his head, he kissed one of her knees and ran soothing fingers in slow passes over the side of one thigh. He would wait. If she did not relax, he would not push. Leaning over her, Obi-Wan kissed her forehead tenderly, dusting her cheeks with more kisses. They were not meant to persuade, but to comfort. Minutes passed and she began to breathe a bit easier. The nervousness seemed to bleed from her features and she tipped her head up to kiss him, legs relaxing onto the bed again.

“I’m sorry,” her apology had him shaking his head and stroking his fingers down the side of her face.

“Don’t be,” his fingertip passed over the tiny scar on her lip. “Would you like to stop?”

Iza shook her head. Her hands came up to cup his face, thumbs brushing the hard line of his jaw. She’d simply been overwhelmed. Trailing her fingers to his shoulders and down his chest, she nudged her forehead to his and pressed her lips together. He could see her cheeks darken in color.

“You…” the flustered hesitation in her voice almost made him smile. He had a feeling he knew what she was going to say. “If… you want to…”

“Do you want me to?”

Her eyes widened and she seemed to look everywhere but into his eyes. Her breathing picked up again and her shy expression returned. It was cute. It really was. He should’ve known better than to make her so discomfited, but he had not been able to help himself. He’d said he wanted to make sure she was comfortable with the things he did, after all.

“ _Master_ —”

“No,” Obi-Wan could _not_ have that. Absolutely not. It would make him feel so damn filthy. “Darling, you must not call me that now.”

She looked confused at first. He supposed he could blame the fact that she must be thinking a million things, _feeling_ a million things. It was not her fault if she’d slipped. He kissed her to let her know that she was not being scolded. A hand slipped between her knees and gently parted them. Shifting, he tucked his body in between and gave her bottom lip a gentle suck.

“I am Obi-Wan, darling. Just Obi-Wan. _Your Obi-Wan_.” Once more he dragged his lips down her body, pausing on his way down to tease her nipples again. He could not help himself. She made the most delightful sounds when he did. When she began to squirm again, he continued downward, felt her belly shudder under his mouth. He was not sure if he parted her thighs or if she parted them for him. Her breathing had already become so heavy by the time he’d started kissing the inside of one that he worried she’d make herself pass out. He curled his arms around her legs, pressed his palms to her hips, lowered his head. The first pass of his tongue against creamy flesh had his girl arching up with a cry that echoed through the starship. Her thighs shivered and her hips jumped. He worked slow, growling when her hands found his hair and held it tight in her fingers. The sound seemed to make her shudder and he filed it away in the back of his mind for later.

“ _Obi_ …” she couldn’t seem to get the other half of his name out in between the heavy way she moaned. Her hips kept trying to twist when he’d reach the sensitive nub near the top. He focused on it. She dug her shoulders into the cot and pushed up against his mouth, rewarding him with desperate cries and hard tugs to his hair. She relaxed when he returned to the languorous passes of his tongue. Curious, he let a hand shift from one of her thighs and gently slid a finger along her slick flesh. Slowly, _carefully_ , he began pressing it inside. She stilled and gasped, her hands flattening against his forehead. He looked up to assess her reaction and briefly picked his head up.

“Darling?”

“ _Don’t. Stop._ ”

Okay then. As with everything else, he continued with the gentlest of intentions. He kept the motions at an easy pace, lightly curling the digit occasionally until she shivered all over. The combination of his mouth and his hand seemed to be her undoing. Her body quivered hard and her hips rolled. She whispered his name in between some rather colorful swear words and tugged his hair again. When her breathing became labored and her body tensed, he worked his tongue against the hard little nub. She suddenly jerked, let out a mewl that bordered on a scream, and twisted on the cot like she didn’t know what else to do with herself or the feeling that ran through her. He continued on in softer passes until she was trembling and pushing at his head, begging him to stop. He did. Withdrawing his finger, he gave her one last kiss and crawled his way back up her quaking form. He bracketed her head with his forearms, stroking gentle fingers through her hair as she stared at him like she’d never seen him in her life and breathed in sharp, heaving gasps.

“Obi-Wan,” she sounded so mindless that he wasn’t sure if he ought to smile or not.

“You’re all right, darling.” _Such a silly girl_. “This is exactly how you should feel.”

“I can’t…” Iza shut her eyes and whimpered. “It’s so intense.”

“I’m flattered.” The smile he’d been suppressing spread across his lips. When she gave another confused whimper, he bowed his head and kissed her. She seemed to hesitate at first. He supposed he couldn’t blame her. She relaxed soon enough and settled her shaking fingers against the side of his neck. When he pulled back, he raised an eyebrow at her. “Do you need more time, my girl?”

“What about you?”

“What about me, darling?”

“I…” she picked her head up and looked down to where he was resting against her belly. Green eyes flicked back up to meet his and she tilted her head curiously. “You’re very… _hard_.”

He laughed outright. Pressing his forehead to hers, he stole an affectionate kiss and sighed. She was so damn cute. Too damn innocent. He felt like such a kriffing _pervert_.

“I am,” he nodded, still smiling. “But if you have not noticed, I am also very _patient_.”

“Do you not want me to do it too?”

“Do what, my dear?”

“Er…” her face went a brilliant shade of scarlet and once again, she seemed incapable of looking him in the eye. “What you just did.”

“Iza,” Obi-Wan felt like laughing again but found he could not. Clearly, she had her own idea of how this was supposed to happen—and that was _fine_. He, however, would prefer to take this much slower. There was plenty of time for things like that. What he’d done had meant to relax—and prepare—her. He expected nothing in return. He would’ve thought she knew better than that. “My darling, look at me,”

It took a long time before she would.

“This is not about me and what I want. Not… entirely.”

“It seems unfair—”

“ _Iza_ ,” Obi-Wan chuckled this time and shook his head. “Darling, you must not think of this as what is fair and what is not. You have not done this before. I will not push things on you when you are not ready.”

“You don’t know if I’m not ready.” She frowned stubbornly, giving him a look.

“You cannot even look at me when you say it. You seem to believe that I _expect_ such a thing because I’ve given it to you. Is it something you even _want_ to do?”

Iza stayed silent. That was really all of the confirmation he needed. After a moment or so, a funny look crossed her face and she glanced at him.

“…you… _wanted_ …?”

Obi-Wan _knew_ his cheeks were turning red. He was not prudish. He could admit to that. Conservative when it mattered, yes, but far from prudish. She had no idea of some of the things he liked to do. It would be a long time before she learned of them. Poking his tongue into his cheek, he looked at her and gave a shrug.

“Is it such a terrible thing if I did?”

“And you enjoyed it?”

He dropped his head on her shoulder to muffle the flustered laugh that burst out of him. Innocent— _but blunt_. Taking a moment to collect himself, he pressed a kiss to her shoulder and looked at her again.

“I would not do it if I didn’t enjoy it.” And because he felt like being a _bastard_ — “ _Did you?_ ”

“ _Obi-Wan_ ,” she did not look as exasperated as she sounded. Humming, he leaned up and lured her into a slow, deep kiss. His brow quirked lightly when she began running her tongue along the inside of his mouth in that eager way of hers. He could not tell if she was trying to encourage him to do the same or if she was still as aroused as he was. When he felt slender fingers drag down to his hips and slide under the waist of his trousers, he was almost sure it was the latter.

“What are you doing?” He murmured against her lips, trying not to rock too much into her.

“ _Can we?_ ”

 _Force_ —he was so kriffing **_weak_** for her. Nodding, he drew the kiss out a little longer until she whined at him again and gave his trousers a tug. Chuckling, he pulled back to give her a look and tutted.

“ _Patience_ ,” he dropped a kiss to her forehead and watched her pout. “Iza, my darling girl, you _must_ know this cannot just _happen?_ ”

“I’m not _that_ stupid.”

“I did not say you were stupid at all.” He kissed her forehead again, then the bridge of her nose. “I just want to be sure you’re ready.”

“Obi-Wan,” she looked frustrated and gave another tug to his pants as if to solidify this. “I don’t know how much more ready I can be.”

“Oh, I could continue preparing you for a very long time, my dear,” he smiled in a rather devious manner, watching her eyes widen a fraction and feeling her thighs inadvertently twitch against the legs he had resting between them. Perhaps, he thought, he ought _not_ to startle her like that. He was allowing a side of himself to show that she had not seen and that he’d done his best to conceal, even now. He needed to continue being mindful. Carding the tips of his fingers through her hair, he softened his smile to something warmer and hummed quietly. “I apologize, darling,”

“For what?” Now she just looked confused.

“I did not mean to frighten—”

“You didn’t.” She shook her head insistently. She was going to chew her bottom lip raw if she kept biting at it like that. “I just—the look in your eyes just now. I’ve only seen it during Soresu practice.”

“Well,” he bit down on his tongue and let out a quiet laugh. “I suppose there’s reason for that.”

“I’m listening,”

“You really want me to explain this _now?_ ” Raising a brow, he shot her a teasing look and pursed his lips. “I thought—”

“You become even cheekier when you’re like this, don’t you?” Iza’s fingers came up to run along his bearded jaw, tracing his bottom lip. After a moment, she gave a tiny sigh and leaned in to kiss his chin. “Not that I’m complaining. I adore your cheekiness.”

“I’ve noticed,” he pressed his lips to her forehead, trailing kisses down the side of her face. He smiled against her skin as she turned her head and tilted it, offering up that tender spot on her neck that was already dark with love bites. He picked an unmarked spot and gently suctioned his lips against it, groaning when she dragged her fingers through his hair and scratched her nails down the back of his neck. Her breathing became heavy once more, gusting against his ear in warm puffs. She shifted beneath him, squirming and sliding her legs up along his. He nipped at the mark and tried not to grin at the way she whimpered.

“ _Obi-Wan_ ,” slender fingers grasped the hair at the back of his head and gave a pull that had him growling low and burying his face in the curve of her throat. His hips pressed forward to grind against her belly. He hadn’t _meant_ to. He’d warned her not to do that.

“ _Darling_ ,” he had to take a moment and steady his breathing. “What did I say?”

“Don’t make me beg,” she squeezed her legs against him again, lips brushing his ear. “Not for this.”

That was fair. He supposed he’d taunted her enough. He’d certainly tormented _himself_ enough. Giving a light nod and a kiss to the new mark on her neck, he carefully lifted off of her. The way she pouted at the loss of his warmth and weight was almost cute. Trying to decide the best way of doing this, Obi-Wan backed his way off the cot and watched her prop herself up on her elbows as if intending to watch. _Very well_. Hooking his thumbs in the waist of his trousers, he eased them off his hips and thought he was going to pop a lung trying not to laugh at the way Iza suddenly went a deep shade of red from her cheeks to her neck. Her eyes widened, then flicked just about everywhere in the room and he saw her exhale harshly before she brought her knuckles to her mouth.

“Darling, are you still sure?”

“ _Stop asking me that_.” She mumbled against her hand, shooting him an annoyed look. He watched her gaze flick from his face to his pelvis, then back up again before it went elsewhere. He sucked his teeth. If she said she was sure, he had no choice but to believe her. Getting his trousers off the rest of the way, he kicked them off to the side and slowly crept back onto the bed. Settling a hand on one of her legs, he took note of how tense she was. Bowing his head, he kissed the top of her thigh.

“Iza,” he knew she was going to get irritated with him. “We do not have to.”

“But I _want_ to.”

“You’re not just saying that because you think it’s what I want?”

Slowly, she shook her head and turned to look at him. After a moment, she scooted further down the cot and brought her hands up to cup his chin, drawing him in for a deep kiss. It was slow and sweet and deliberate like the one she’d given before and it set his head spinning just as wildly. He damn near melted as she brushed her fingers down the side of his neck and eased them back to cradle his head. There was just something so damn _tender_ about it; he hadn’t expected it from her. Not yet. She touched her forehead to his when they broke away, stroking the pad of her thumb against the soft skin behind his ear as they sat gazing at one another for a short while. He stole soft kisses. She stole them back. Soon, she was leaning back on the cot, pulling him along with her. He settled over her, distributing his weight as evenly as he could. When their gazes met, he asked one last time—silently—if she was sure. She nodded. He drew back enough to line himself up with her, hesitating. He had all of the consent in the universe from her. He was more than on board with it as well. He was simply terrified to make her uncomfortable.

“Obi-Wan,”

Picking his head up to look at her, he found her giving him the softest of looks. The lust was still very evident in her eyes, but there was something else that shimmered there too. A longing that he’d noticed more and more over the last few months; something that ran much deeper than simple arousal. He felt it along their bond whenever she looked at him, and saw it in her sweet smiles. He’d felt it in each of her kisses and heard it every damn time she said his name. He knew his eyes likely mirrored that same shimmer. He wondered if she’d noticed.

“I know, darling,” he whispered, giving a slow nod of his head. With a deep breath, he nudged his hips into hers. He stopped when she threw a hand up against his chest and tensed, watching her face carefully. It did not take long before she was nodding at him and lowering her hand, though it remained hovering between them. He continued, taking short pauses every so often. When their hips finally met, he bowed his head and pressed kisses all over her face, murmuring softly to her while she adjusted around him. He was patient and waited until she whispered that he could move, doing so at an easy pace. Her conflicted expression almost had him halting altogether, but she slid her arms around his shoulders and rested her head against his and he knew she would only become annoyed if he did.

“Obi-Wan?” She sounded so sweet when she said his name like that. “Am I yours?”

Something in his chest clenched hard. He did not even need to think about it. He had known for a very long time that she was _his_. When the Force had given her to him, _bonded_ her to him— _he’d known_. Resting his forehead to hers, he smiled and nuzzled his nose against hers.

“Yes, darling,” he wished he could control his breathing better than this. “You’re mine.”

Iza let out a quiet noise that he recognized as a startled sob. At first, he thought he’d somehow hurt her. He paused and she shook her head, nudging her hips up into his to urge him to continue. Her mouth found his and he could feel her struggling against her composure as she kissed him. It left him feeling very confused, though he could not resist returning her sweet kisses.

“ _My Obi-Wan_ ,” she whispered against his mouth. _Oh_. Now he understood. A smile pulled at the corners of his lips and he huffed out a short laugh.

“ _Yours_.”

The heavy sounds of their breathing filled the small space of the sleeping chamber, interspersed with low moans and quiet cries. He would not last long with the way her body kept squeezing him the way it did. Judging by how hard she was breathing and the way she kept shivering against him, she would not last long either. Lifting up on one arm, he slipped a hand down between them to slowly rub the tip of his fingers around the sensitive nub at the top of her sex. The way she cried out and twisted on the cot nearly made him lose it. She was beautiful to watch. The way she looked at him and said his name so desperately; the near frantic way her hands grasped for anything within reach. Her back would arch and he’d lower his head to taste the soft flesh she offered. Her hips bucked into his and she whimpered something unintelligible, tightened on him in a way that nearly made him snarl, and covered her face with an arm as she cried out her release. He tried to remain as gentle as he could as he worked to follow after her. His hips stuttered, pushed forward just a little too hard, and he dropped his head to bury his face against her shoulder where he moaned heavily as the heat in his pelvis drained out of him and left him tingling from head to toe.

They lay together like that for Force knew how long. Neither of them seemed able to catch their breath. Iza twitched and whimpered beneath him and he whined at any little movement she made. He was so dazed that he flinched when her fingers slid into his sweaty hair. Her giggle made him groan and bury his face deeper in her shoulder. He did not want to move. They could not stay like this forever—but he wished they could.

“ _My Obi-Wan_ ,” she whispered, turning her head just enough to kiss the top of his.

“Yours, darling,” he mumbled drowsily. “And you are _mine_.”

~*~*~*~

“How does it feel?”

Iza glanced up from where she sat on the bench seat, twirling her new saber hilt around her knuckles, and gave Obi-Wan a startled look.

“Excuse me?”

He laughed and dropped his head, getting up from his spot in the captain’s chair to come and sit beside her. Gesturing to the hilt, he gave her a pointed look.

“Is it to your liking?” He tilted his head curiously and reached over to brush a bit of loose hair out of her face. “I did my best to get similar parts from Huyang. It was difficult without having the other one with me.”

“Oh,” she knew her cheeks were probably turning red. “It’s perfect. The weight is just right. I wouldn’t know the difference if not for the color, honestly.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear that. I would hate to have gotten something that would throw the balance off.” Gesturing to the lightsaber hanging from her belt, he raised an eyebrow. “Have you tried joining them together yet?”

“No,” shaking her head, Iza gave a weak smile. “I’m sorry. My mind is a little… I’m distracted.”

“I can see this. Are you all right?”

“I just keep thinking about it,” she whispered, lowering her gaze. Another tiny smile played on her lips and she fidgeted with the saber hilt in her hands. After a few moments, she looked up. “Is that normal?”

“I can’t imagine why it wouldn’t be,” Obi-Wan shrugged and leaned over to rest his head against hers. “It will likely be in your head for a while, my girl. I most certainly will not forget any time soon.”

“Will we be able to do it again?”

“Perhaps,” he laughed a little as he gave her a look. “You will need to be patient. We discussed this, Iza. We cannot act as though anything has changed.”

“I know.” She nodded and made a face. She very nearly reminded him that she was not a child, but held her tongue. “You did not put us in hyperdrive, right?”

“I told you that I would take the long way.” Obi-Wan eyed her and brushed his lips across her cheek. “Darling, I know you must tire of hearing me say this, but it is in your best interest to—”

“I _know_ ,” she cut him off, shutting her eyes. “I know. Relax. Allow myself to feel, but don’t allow my feelings to overwhelm me. I _know_ , Obi-Wan.”

“Do not take my words as me brushing aside how you feel in this moment, my darling girl,” carefully, he drew her onto his lap and set his chin on her shoulder. Breathing a quiet sigh, he smiled and tipped his head against hers once more. “It is not as though I don’t share these same feelings, after all.”

“You’re so calm,” Iza’s free hand sought his out and she laced their fingers together. “If I look hard enough, I can feel how pleased you are. But it’s like you’re hiding it even from me.”

“Are you reading my signature or our bond?”

“I reach where it feels the warmest.”

“Mm,” he fell silent a moment, then turned his head to kiss her cheek. “I seem to have fallen a bit short as your master. Teaching you to access the bond should have been one of the first things I showed you.”

“I can do it sometimes. Usually when I don’t mean to.” Iza gave him a look and smiled. “Or if I really want you to see me.”

“Oh, I’ve noticed that.” Obi-Wan grinned slow and shook his head at her. “I’ll be minding my own business and a funny little feeling will just _flick_ me behind the ear.”

“You do it too.”

“I do _not_.” He tried to look innocent. It didn’t work.

“You do so!” Laughing, Iza leaned away and turned in his lap. “When I was in the archives doing some reading, you walked through with Master Fisto and you were not shy about nudging me.”

“I think you’re imagining things, my girl,” Obi-Wan pressed his lips together to further stop his smirk, though his eyes gave him away for certain.

“I know when you pass my bedroom at night.” The brunette’s amused expression softened. “You always stop outside the door like you’re checking on me. Sometimes I can hear you tell me _goodnight_.”

“Darling, the only time I’ve been in the dormitories is when I’ve walked you there,” tilting his head with a curious look, the older Jedi reached up and brushed his fingertip along her chin. “But I do check on you before bedtime. You are right about that.”

Iza stared at him. She wanted to ask about five hundred different questions and couldn’t seem to settle on even one of them. She shut her eyes as Obi-Wan leaned in to kiss her forehead and grunted when he nudged her.

“What is it?” He asked.

“Nothing,” she whispered, giving a faint smile. “I’m just thinking. Silly things, I suppose.”

“If there is something you want to know, you only need to ask, Iza,”

“Did you…” she hesitated, looking down at where their hands were joined. Brushing her thumb along his, she leaned into his chest. “On Ragoon VI… did you know?”

“I knew enough,” his other arm went around her, drawing her even closer. “I did not… understand at first, I suppose. Quin had made jokes of a childhood fondness you had for me and I just… I guess I brushed it off. But you would get so _hurt_ if I said or did something to upset you. I didn’t understand that either at first. I confided in Quin—which may have been a mistake. The night I got drunk, I don’t remember much, but I remember him telling me to keep to my morals. Which is _hilarious_ coming from that man.”

Iza let out a tiny laugh and shook her head. The idea of Master Quin telling _anyone_ to stick to their morals _was_ a bit comical. She supposed she could see where he might be responsible when he needed to be, but she sometimes wondered how it was he’d been able to become a Jedi at all with the way he behaved.

“I truly knew when I woke up the next day and you looked at me like you’d nearly lost your entire reason to live.” Obi-Wan’s face was near expressionless when he spoke, and there was a small crease between his brows as he stared at the floor of the starship. “You do not know how much it pained me to have to tell you to let go of that. The entire day—my head was a mess, darling. I could not comprehend what had happened to me, the things I was feeling from _you_ , the damn hangover.” He paused to let out a dry laugh. “I guess that’s why I became so… emotional. And _Force_ , when you nearly drowned yourself—”

“Obi-Wan,” Iza shook her fingers free from his and reached up to run them through his hair; tried her best to soothe him. An ache had started in the middle of her chest. Was this how he felt when she broke down?

“Quinlan realized my own feelings before I did,” shaking his head, the older Jedi leaned into her touch. “He warned me to be careful and I went and showed you a lover’s meditation technique like a _fool_. I only wanted you to stop being so upset with me. I did not mean to cross lines. I certainly did not mean to hurt you the way that I did, either. Quinlan and his damn accusations—I should not have said a damn thing.”

“You used to watch me.” Iza didn’t want to talk about that anymore. Revisiting the pain would just reopen those wounds and she didn’t want to feel that pain again. “In the morning. I knew you were watching. Like how I can feel you visit before bed—I just… knew.”

A guilty smile spread across Obi-Wan’s face, completely erasing the shameful expression he’d been wearing. Ducking his chin, he sucked his teeth lightly and tutted. Iza watched his cheeks turn pink and she snickered, leaning up to kiss the side of his head.

“I didn’t mind. Even when I knew you were not thinking very _pure_ thoughts, I didn’t mind.”

“You could tell?” He suddenly looked alarmed.

“Your breathing would change. I told you—the blindfold increased my other senses and the Force helped, too. But you kept these things to yourself, so…” she shrugged, giving a tiny tilt of her head. “Although I do not think I would have minded if you hadn’t.”

“I miss being there,” he confessed with a sigh. “I shouldn’t. Life just felt a little easier out there.”

“I know how you feel. It would be nice to be allowed to continue training _our_ way, without everyone’s eyes and ears in our business.”

“Unfortunately, my darling, that is not how this works,” Obi-Wan looked as though he regretted very much that he even had to say it. He figured she knew this already. The last thing he wanted was to further dampen the mood, but it was something they would both need to face eventually. “You still have much to learn and I cannot teach you alone.”

“And I’ve told you that I can’t learn stuck in that place.”

“ _That place_ houses some of the finest Force users, Iza. Some far more skilled than I.” He smiled at her and rested his forehead to hers again, breathing a deep sigh. “I only want you to be a great Jedi, darling.”

“What about what I want, Obi-Wan?”

He leaned back, a look of light shock falling over his face. For a moment, he didn’t quite know what to say to that. It wasn’t like he didn’t know how that felt. He’d had his moments where he’d questioned the Order and where it stood in his life. He wondered if she knew that he’d left. As he studied her face now, he knew he’d be something of a hypocrite if he tried convincing her that leaving was not the way. He also knew he’d be doing it for selfish reasons.

“What do you want, my dear?”

“I’ve already told you that,” Iza pinched her mouth in frustration. “ _You_.”

“And you have me, darling.” Obi-Wan wasn’t sure if it was relief he felt or not. The Code certainly did not permit this. He’d tried his hardest to avoid it, too. As long as they remained _mindful_ —

“I still have to call you my Master. I have to treat you as my superior in front of others. We have to behave as though nothing is different between us unless we’re alone—and will we _ever_ be alone in that place? _On Coruscant?_ ”

“You are putting far too much thought into this, Iza,”

“And you’re not putting in enough.”

“Is that what you think?”

Iza found herself at a loss. She hated how difficult he was to read. Why couldn’t he just express his feelings or allow them to be somewhere she could see them? She knew he cared. She knew he had to feel as strongly about this as she did. But it was so hard to tell when he would not _say_ so. What was she supposed to think? He seemed so damn nonchalant and preoccupied with her becoming a Jedi—it confused her. It made her feel dirty, in a way. Like he’d gotten what he needed and was back to business. Was he not as caught up in these strong feelings as she was?

“I do not know what to think,” she shook her head and fought valiantly against the tears in her eyes. “I have told you many times before that I cannot focus and be as peaceful as you.”

“Iza,” tutting, Obi-Wan wrapped his arms around her shoulders and leaned back on the bench seat. His fingers raked slowly through her hair and he dropped kisses to the top of her head while trying to think of something to say. He didn’t want to continue upsetting her. He understood she was overwhelmed. He was too. “I have seen you focus the way I do. You do not give yourself enough credit. I think what we have done together has simply stirred your anxiety. Please do not mistake my placidity as nonchalance. I feel just as strongly as you do. I promise that I do. But if I let it overwhelm me, we would both be in trouble.”

“I can’t explain why I feel like this,” Iza brushed the heel of her hand beneath her eyes and frowned hard. “I just feel… I’m scared.”

“Darling, there’s nothing to be afraid of,” tilting his head to look at her, he lightly twisted a bit of her hair around his fingers. “Is it me you’re afraid of? Are you worried I will forget?”

“You did not even want—”

He kissed her. Soft and as reassuring as he could. When she pressed forward to try and deepen it, he only allowed her to be gentle. Soothing fingers ran through her hair again and stroked down the side of her neck. She relaxed. Slowly but surely, she relaxed. He continued lightly caressing a crooked finger against her cheek when he pulled back and nuzzled at her nose, smiling.

“You are _mine_ , darling,” he whispered, skimming his touch over the faint scar beneath her eye. “I will not give you up so easily.”

“Promise?”

“ _I promise._ ”

Iza studied his face for a long time before she cuddled into his chest and fell silent. Slowly, she began following his breathing pattern until a gentle tingling sensation flowed through her fingers. It was not the same as the Runi. It was warmer and there were no lights. She heard a soft, amused hum from behind her but felt the rumble as though it’d come from her throat. _What a strange feeling_. The light scratch of Obi-Wan’s beard was on her cheek and she leaned into it. Her eyes shifted to their corners to look at him. He was looking back. They smiled at the same time and she felt a jolt of surprise in the pit of her belly. What the _hell_ was this? He smiled wider and her lips pulled up even more.

_Obi-Wan?_

_It’s all right, darling_. He tilted his head into hers and she seemed to move automatically to mirror the movement. _It’s part of the bond_.

_Did you do this?_

_No._

_How did it happen?_

_You’ve reached for me. Projected, in a way. I can explain easier if you let go._ He chuckled and again, the sound seemed to rumble in her throat.

Iza didn’t know how the hell to do that. The idea of them being stuck like this made her panic and she felt him nudge his head against hers again. This time, she did not move. Exhaling harshly, she shut her eyes and tilted her head back on his shoulders, relieved.

“I really do need to sit you down and teach you how to use this properly,” he teased, kissing her cheek. “I fear the day you accidentally access that link when I’m in the middle of speaking to the Council.”

The brunette sat up suddenly as though a thought had popped into her head. Turning to look at him, her eyes went wide.

“That’s how I did it. When you were choking.” Iza gestured to her chest and made a face. “I remember feeling like I couldn’t breathe suddenly. I kept coughing, but _you_ were the one who coughed everything up.”

A brow went up high on Obi-Wan’s forehead, his eyes widening some as well. He was silent for a moment before he snorted softly. Well, that certainly made more sense than her using the Force to pull the vomit from his lungs. It still did not explain _how_ she’d done it. He supposed that it also didn’t matter at this point.

“It’s an influence link,” he explained, still looking a bit disturbed. “It’s meant to be used as a coordination technique in battle. Have you noticed how we sometimes seem to read each other during training? We’ll use the same attacks, move in the same manner?”

“Is that why I feel even more aggressive sometimes?” Iza tilted her head and eyed him. “Because I’ve noticed you are… I understand sometimes why Master Windu did not want you to learn Vaapad. You would destroy yourself if you were to truly try and master it.”

“Thank you, darling,” Obi-Wan gave an awkward smile, like he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to take it as a compliment or not.

“Please do not take offense, my Master,” that habit was hard to break. That was probably for the best, really. “It’s the same reason he took my lessons from me.”

“Master Qui-Gon disliked how aggressive I was when I was young. I’ve done what I can to suppress it. It’s part of the reason you believe me to be so _peaceful_. But I admit—in the heat of battle, I can become a bit overzealous.”

“I do so wish they’d give us an assignment,” Iza pursed her lips in a light pout. “I would like to see this for myself.”

Obi-Wan laughed. He didn’t mean to. Shaking his head, he kissed her temple.

“You should not say such things, Iza. That is not how a Jedi should think. We are not supposed to encourage violence.”

“I am not encouraging anything,” she shrugged. “I did not say I wanted to see you harm a person or kill. Just that I wanted to see you engage in combat outside of our training sessions, my Master. That is _not_ encouraging violence.”

“It _is_.” He tapped the end of her nose with a finger, grinning. “But I will allow it this once.”

“Do not pretend you did not enjoy watching me put Master Quin in the dirt.” She squinted in an accusing manner and poked her tongue out at him childishly. “I can feel the things _you_ feel, remember? Right down to that funny pinch you get right here—” she poked his belly playfully. “—when you see me.”

“It seems as though _I_ need a few lessons in how the Force bond works,” Obi-Wan looked amused as he snorted at her. “We will never behave properly around one another if we cannot stop projecting in an inappropriate manner.”

“We can add it to the list of things.” Iza sighed and let her eyes drop to the new lightsaber sitting beside them on the bench seat. Picking it up, she turned it over and gave it a quick twirl. “I haven’t fired this up yet. Do you think I ought to?”

“Not while you’re sitting in my lap, no.”

The brunette gave him a look and rolled her eyes. Getting up from where she sat, she moved away from him and lowered the power. She didn’t feel like having any accidents in the starship. Taking a breath, she pressed the power switch and watched it light up the same brilliant blue as her other saber. _Thank the Force._

“You look relieved,” Obi-Wan observed, watching her move further away so she could take a few practice swings with it. “Were you expecting it to explode?”

“ _No_.” She scoffed, giving it a few twists. “I guess I just didn’t want it to be a different color. I don’t mind so much that the hilt is a different metal, but it would feel silly to me if I had a weapon that didn’t match.”

“Aayla’s sabers do not match.”

“Aayla does not use hers as a single weapon.” Powering the lightsaber off, Iza unhooked her other lightsaber and studied the bottom before attaching it to the new one, twisting them to lock them in place. For a few moments, she stood there giving the longer hilt a few practice twirls. It was much like using a shorter version of the staffs, though the weight was somewhat foreign. Biting her bottom lip, she looked over at Obi-Wan nervously. “I do not know if I should turn this on in here.”

“I would not.” He shook his head, rolling to his feet to check the navigation. “Those can be terribly tall and you are _not_.”

“That is mean to say!”

“Darling,” he chuckled as he looked at her over his shoulder. “I say it with the deepest of affections in my heart. Besides—I do not mind your stature.”

“I am almost five-five. That’s… average.”

“You don’t need to defend yourself to me.” Sitting down in the captain’s chair, he smirked. “I’ve just told you I don’t mind your height.”

“At least I am not like Master Yoda. I feel I would pitch myself off the high tower if I were that small.”

This made Obi-Wan burst into heavy laughter. Covering his face with his hands to try and muffle the sound, he dragged them down his face and was a bit startled to find Iza standing beside the chair. Looking up at her curiously as the last few snickers bubbled in his throat, he reached to take her hand and raised an eyebrow silently. He should not have been as surprised as he was when she slid a leg across his lap and straddled him. She simply gazed at him for a while, bringing her hand up to play with a bit of hair that had fallen across his forehead. And then she was leaning in to kiss him. His hands settled on her hips as she rested against his chest. He sighed heavily when she slowly slid her tongue across his. She was getting better at this. _Quick learner, his girl was_. The longer they kissed, the more aware he became of her heavy breathing and the gentle press of her hips and he hated himself so much when he pulled back to look at her.

“We do not have enough time, my girl,” he whispered, looking apologetic. “We will be nearing Coruscant within the next twenty minutes.”

Iza looked as though she wanted to pout and he half expected her to complain. When she began to steal slow, deep kisses instead, he groaned and wondered if she was trying to goad him. When she pulled back again, she ran her fingers through his hair and tilted her head.

“Will you show me the lights?” She asked quietly, a hopeful expression on her face.

Obi-Wan couldn’t say no.

“Yes, darling,” he cupped her face in his hand and pulled her in for another kiss. “I can do that.”

~*~*~*~

The sweat that rolled down her back stung the burns she’d given herself, but Iza was not going to let it stop her. She’d been in the dojo for over an hour, practicing with the new saberstaff. She’d turned the power down on both of her individual lightsabers but apparently it had not been enough. Each time she twisted the wrong way while twirling the damn thing, she’d strike herself in the shoulder or the arm and add to the growing collection of burn marks. It was frustrating how different the weight distribution was in comparison with her training staffs. She had expected it to be much easier. Obi-Wan had been correct in saying the damn thing was tall. She’d had to adjust the height—which would surely throw her off the next time she had to use these lightsabers individually—and the center of gravity just did not align well with what she was used to. It was damn infuriating and she’d sworn out loud quite a few times over it. Maybe if she had her blindfold it would be easier.

“You’re up late,”

Quinlan’s voice had her jerking in shock and the blade of the saberstaff struck her hard in the leg. Thankfully, she’d kept her trousers on and the sting wasn’t as bad. Letting out a heavy breath, she powered the weapon down and looked over at him with a scowl.

“I can’t sleep.” Wandering over to where she’d left a bottle of water and her outer robe, she wiped her face off and took a quick drink. “I didn’t know you were at the Temple?”

“Obi asked a favor of me.”

“Oh?”

“Yep.” He came further into the room, studying the array of lightsabers that were kept on the wall for training. “He wants me to help you with your Jar’Kai.”

“I thought _he_ was going to teach me?” Sitting down on the floor, Iza frowned.

“Oh—he is. But he only knows so much.” Plucking a lightsaber off the wall, he weighed it in his hand for a moment and put it back. “Is that going to be okay with you, little one?”

“I don’t mind.” Shrugging, she took another sip of water and winced when more sweat ran down her back.

“You should wear your long sleeves with that thing.” Gesturing to the saberstaff, Quinlan smirked lightly and picked another saber to test. “You’re going to end up looking like a tiger.”

“I can’t learn to avoid it with protection.” Iza shook her head and watched him. “What are you doing?”

“Trying to find one of these that doesn’t feel like it’s meant for a youngling.” He wrinkled his nose. “I suppose I can always borrow Obi’s or Aayla’s.”

“Hey,”

“Hm?” He turned and raised an eyebrow at her expectantly. Iza hesitated, chewing the inside of her bottom lip for a long moment before she exhaled heavily and looked down at the saberstaff in her hands.

“Thank you.”

“For what?” Crossing the floor of the dojo, Quinlan took a seat in front of her.

“Saving me.” Running her fingers over the metal column distractedly, Iza tried her hardest not to let her face screw up. “You could’ve… you could’ve died too, you know.”

“I knew the risks.”

“You didn’t have to do it.” She blinked and the soft _pat_ of tears hitting her trousers followed.

“You’re kidding, right?” He let out a soft laugh and reached to tip her chin up. “Do you know what that would have done to Obi? He’s such a kriffing di’kut, he would have jumped too.”

“ _Di’kut?_ ”

“Didn’t I see you reading a Mando’a translation text?” Quinlan’s smile was full of knowing mischief. Iza felt her cheeks heat but she couldn’t bring herself to look away. “It means _idiot._ ”

“What about Aayla? What would become of her if something had happened to _you?_ ”

“Aayla knows how to handle herself.” His smile softened and he shrugged. “She would manage.”

“It was warm.” Iza finally dropped her gaze again. “I wasn’t even scared.”

“I know that feeling very well, little one.” Propping his chin in his hand, Quinlan drummed his fingers against his knee. “Obi doesn’t like talking about it, but I had an _accident_ on Ragoon VI when we were Padawans. I almost went to the Force. Same as you. He was _stupid_ and jumped in after me.”

“It is not stupid to want to save someone you care about.” Frowning, the brunette’s fingers found the end of her braid and twisted it around the tips. “It’s a scary thing. Not knowing what to do. Worse when you don’t have anyone else to help.”

“He told me you used the Force to help him.”

Iza shook her head, tugging at the braid.

“The bond.” She mumbled. “We figured it out. That weird… influence link. I breathed for him somehow.”

“Ah— _yes_.” Laughing, Quinlan nodded his head and reached out to stop her from tugging. It reminded him of how he used to have to stop _someone else_ from that habit. “That would make more sense.”

“I guess we both have a lot to learn still, huh?” Iza gave a quick smile and looked away again. After a few moments of silence, she clucked her tongue and sighed. “I should get back to this.”

“You should go to bed.” He said pointedly. “Meditation at dawn is a nightmare when you haven’t had sleep, and Jar’Kai takes a lot of focus as well. You have to learn to use your less dominant hand and I am _not_ a lax teacher, little one.”

“I…” She thinned her lips and looked like she wanted to argue. “I _can’t_ sleep.”

“And why is that?”

“I just can’t,” getting to her feet, Iza brushed past him and went to stand in the center of the dojo. Powering on the saberstaff, she took a deep breath and closed her eyes before she began twirling it to build her momentum. Quinlan stayed quiet as he watched. At first, she seemed to move reasonably well with it. But when she tried to move around the room, she stumbled on her feet and cracked herself across the back with the blade. Letting out a grunt, she tried again. This time, she got a few steps in before the blade grazed the mat and she fumbled, dropping the saberstaff.

“ _Kriff this!_ ” Picking it up, she powered it down and went to grab her things, turning to go when Quinlan snagged her by the leg of her trousers.

“You’re not very patient, are you?” He smiled at her, raising a brow. “This is not the same as your training staffs, little one. This is a very difficult weapon to master.”

“I do not want to disappoint him,” Iza clenched her jaw and looked away. “I do not want to fail him.”

“There is not much you could do to disappoint Obi, little one.” Letting go of her trousers, he rolled to his feet with a grunt and paused as he started to pat her shoulder, thinking better of it. He did not want to upset the burns. “He has only _just_ become your master. You still have a long journey together. He does not expect you to learn these things overnight.”

“I am not a youngling anymore, Master Quin. I should be able to pick things up faster than this.”

“You pick things up quite quick, Iza.” Gesturing for her to head out, he followed her. “But nobody has the ability to learn everything at once.”

“I do not want to take my Trials when I’m thirty.”

“You will not.” He laughed, steering her in the opposite direction of the dormitories. “Once you and Obi get a few assignments under your belt, the Council will likely see that you’re pretty capable.”

“Where are we going?”

“To get you some bacta for those burns,” he snorted, giving her a once over. “Obi will throw a fit if he sees that.”

“If Obi sees _what?_ ”

Both Iza and Quinlan turned to find Obi-Wan standing with his arms crossed and an expectant look on his face. He looked annoyed and tired, like he’d been roused from his sleep unceremoniously. Iza wanted to go to him. Instead, she offered a soft look and then looked down at the floor to hide the guilt in her eyes.

“ _Iza_ , you should be in bed,” coming over, he ran his fingers through his hair to try and fix it. As he got closer, he took note of the various marks on her skin and frowned hard. “What have you done?”

“Saberstaff practice,” Quinlan gestured to the hilt in Iza’s hand. “I told her to wear her long sleeves.”

“Do not tattle on me!” Scowling, the brunette folded her arms and shot a sidelong glance at her master. “We were going to the infirmary.”

“She’s all yours, my friend.” Quinlan winked and gave a light salute, turning to leave. “Don’t forget, little one. Practice starts tomorrow after breakfast.”

Making a face at his back, Iza huffed. She felt Obi-Wan rest the tips of his fingers against her lower back and twisted away with a soft hiss.

“Careful,” she murmured, walking when he prompted her to.

“Why are you not in bed?” He asked, tucking his hands behind his back as they walked.

“I can’t sleep.” Iza shrugged. She would have followed suit if her body allowed it. “I thought I could wear myself out.”

“Anything wrong?”

Iza hesitated. She could feel his eyes on her but she didn’t want to acknowledge him. The gentle nudge of something warm along their bond made her sigh and she stopped in her tracks.

“I keep seeing the vision from the temple cave. I know… I know it’s not a true vision but it was so…” she moved her hands like she didn’t know how to explain herself. “The Force is very cruel when it wants to be.”

Obi-Wan’s features were neutral for the most part, but his eyes showed light concern. He seemed to want to ask what she’d seen, but he knew those things were private for most people. Iza had not expressed any interest in telling him what she’d experienced outside of these small clues. He could not push for further information. It wouldn’t feel right.

“I’m sorry, my dear,” he said softly, wishing he could properly comfort her.

“I wish I did not have to sleep alone.” Muttering quietly, Iza started down the hall again and reached up to take her hair down and drag her fingers through it. He caught sight of her lightly tugging the end of her braid and frowned, wishing she wouldn’t do that. Trailing after her, he caught up and walked beside her again, staring straight ahead.

“Do you know where my room is?” He asked quietly, keeping his voice as low as possible.

“I think so, yes,” turning her head, she eyed him. “But the guards—”

“The guards do not patrol the Master’s dormitories. There’s no need to.”

“I do not want to get you into trouble,”

“We will get you to your room during meditation hour.” Obi-Wan glanced at her and offered a faint smile. “But we must not make a habit of it.”

“Master Obi-Wan,” Iza was torn. On the one hand, the offer was _extremely_ tempting. On the other, she truly did not want to get him into trouble. She didn’t care what happened to her. She’d nearly been expelled from the Order already. She could handle it if it happened for real. But Obi-Wan did not deserve such a punishment.

“Fourth corridor from where we’ve just come from. Sixth door. You’ll know.”

“ _Obi-Wan_ ,”

“I will see you soon, my dear,” he smiled and gave a light bow of his head, turning on his heel to head back down the hallway. Iza could do nothing more but stare after him. When he’d disappeared, she heaved a sigh and continued on her way to the infirmary

~*~*~*~

The trip back had taken a bit of time. She’d wanted to avoid as many of the guards as she could—being caught out of bed at this hour would not look good—and she’d nearly forgotten which corridor he’d said he was in. It wasn’t until she really focused on his signature that she found him. The door opened before she even had a chance to knock and she gasped quietly when she was hauled inside. His lips were so damn soft against hers and he held her so tight that her nervousness drained out of her almost instantly. She could see him smiling in the dark when he pulled back, felt him backing toward the bed where they fell in a heap of snickers.

“Get this damn thing off,” he muttered, reaching to detach the saberstaff at her waist. Setting it beside his lightsaber on the table next to his bed, he tutted and pulled her beneath his blankets. “You smell terrible.”

“ _Thanks_.” Iza scoffed, making a face at him.

“I despise the smell of bacta,” scrunching his nose, he rested his forehead to hers and let out a soft noise. “But I can put up with it.”

“You never said what you were doing awake,” reaching up, Iza ran her nails through his beard and smiled at the way he growled. She loved that sound. “You looked so pitiful with your hair standing on end.”

“You woke me up,” Obi-Wan rubbed his nose across hers affectionately. “You were very sad for a while and then very frustrated. It’s difficult to remain sleeping when those emotions are sitting in your chest.”

“I was speaking to Master Quin. We were talking about some things that were… not so happy, I guess.” After a moment, she added. “He tells me you’ve asked him to help with my Jar’Kai lessons.”

“I have. Are you all right with that?”

“I already told him I don’t mind. I’m comfortable with him.”

“Well, I’m glad for that,” he ran his fingers through her hair and kissed her. “We should get some sleep, darling.”

“Obi-Wan?”

“Mm?”

“ _Mine_.” She stole a slow kiss and smiled at the low noise she pulled from him. Nodding, he whispered back,

“ _Yours, darling._ ”


	9. Lucid Dreams

“I’d like you to try some of the basic exercises with just your non-dominant hand, little one.” Quinlan gestured to the lightsabers on Iza’s belt and tucked his hands at the small of his back. “You need to get used to the motions of two separate blades being wielded at the same time, and you can’t do that if all your strength lies in _one_ side.”

“They made us do this when we were younglings,” Iza made a face, taking her new lightsaber off of her belt. She figured if she was going to practice _new_ things, she might as well do them with the newer of the two weapons. “But I’ll humor you, Master Quin.”

“Master Yoda had you waving them around and getting yourselves used to the weight.” The older Jedi seemed to roll his eyes as he went to sit on a nearby viewing bench. “You were not given practice droids to combat against.”

“You’re throwing droids at me?” Pausing as she whipped the hilt around her knuckles, Iza stared at him. “Already?”

“I did tell you I wasn’t a lax teacher, didn’t I?” A smirk formed at the corner of his mouth and he turned his hand up. “I’ll give you some time to get used to using your left hand first. And then you will have a short test with the droids.”

“That’s a bit… extreme, isn’t it?”

“Most Jedi who use Jar’Kai don’t do it as a main form. It’s a _spur of the moment_ type of thing, little one. You need to learn to be quick on your feet.” Quinlan shrugged. “I’ve seen your reflexes. I know you’re a fast little thing. But you need to train that arm to be just as fast as the other.”

“Why can’t I just fight you?”

“I seem to have misplaced my lightsaber.” He smiled.

“You can use my other one.”

“I would rather see how you fare against an opponent you’re unfamiliar with. How’s that?” A dark brow lifted high on the older man’s head and Iza sighed heavily.

“Okay.” She wished she knew where Obi-Wan had gone after breakfast this morning. He’d said something about needing to speak with Master Qui-Gon, but that had been well over an hour ago. Surely whatever they were discussing was not _that_ in depth.

“Focus.” Quinlan’s deep voice interrupted her thoughts. “Clear your head, Iza. Whatever it is you do when you practice your Soresu— _do that_.”

How the hell did she tell him that in order to focus on Soresu, she needed to have fifty different things running through her head and all of them had to include Obi-Wan? They were either her worries about what he’d think if he saw her fumble, the way the smile he’d given her in the hallway had lit up her whole chest, her fears that he would find her just as disappointing as Master Windu had; the only way Iza could truly _focus_ was if she kept her mind occupied with him. Taking a deep breath, she shut her eyes and _tried_ to clear her head—if only to make way for the barrage of single track thoughts that she’d need to maintain concentration. Igniting the lightsaber with a quick squeeze, she twirled it a few times before easing into the standard exercises that all Jedi hopefuls were taught. It was surprising to her how tricky it was to make her hand do the same things that her dominant one could. The movements felt lazy and sloppy and twice she nearly dropped it. She’d absently started to pass it off to her dominant hand when Quinlan whistled sharply through his teeth and startled her horribly.

“ _Nope_ ,” he wagged a finger and got to his feet. “None of that. Do we need to bind your arm behind your back?”

“Excuse me?” Iza took a step back from him as he got closer, holding her lightsaber out in front of her. He stopped and propped his hands on his hips, giving her an impatient look.

“You’ve never seen the braces?”

“ _No_.”

He muttered something that she wasn’t even sure was in Basic and shook his head.

“They’re just training braces. They look like slings, but they go behind your back. A lot of Makashi practitioners use them.”

“I do not wish to have my arm bound behind my back, thank you.” Iza took another step back from him, lowering the lightsaber. Quinlan eyed her for a moment and waved a dismissive hand before folding his arms across his chest.

“All right. But if you do that again, I’m going to insist on it.”

The brunette looked like she wanted to argue. She knew she shouldn’t. He wasn’t Obi-Wan. She couldn’t get away with pouting and refusing certain things. Even still, she was pretty sure she didn’t like the idea of losing the use of an arm. What would she do if she fell? She wouldn’t even be able to use the Force to stop herself from hitting the ground.

“Yes Master Quin,” she murmured, keeping her eyes downcast. When she saw his boots moving away, she twirled the lightsaber and focused her thoughts, falling back into the routine again. It seemed a bit easier this time, though her stupid fingers still seemed to get in the way and didn’t want to grip the lightsaber tight enough at times. She tried not to think about how annoying that was. Her thoughts shifted back to Obi-Wan. To the previous night in his room. They had not been intimate, but they’d been sweet with one another. If she concentrated hard enough she could still feel his kiss. The soft scratch of his beard on her chin. The way he liked to catch her bottom lip between his teeth in between deep kisses. It made her smile to think about the lovely things he said to her and how warm he was. She still smelled him in her hair and on her clothes. She hadn’t changed the tunic she wore. She couldn’t bear the idea of losing that smell.

“Iza.”

The brunette jumped a mile and dropped the lightsaber, causing it to blink out at her feet. Her eyes came back into focus and she stared at Quinlan’s curious face where he sat on the viewing bench. Her breathing was erratic and she was sure her cheeks were probably quite pink. Giving him an expectant look, she bent to pick up the fallen saber and cleared her throat.

“Yes, Master Quin?”

He gave her a funny look and squinted lightly. She wondered briefly if he’d been able to tell what it was she’d been thinking about. She certainly hoped not. While she was sure that Quinlan would not go running to the Council about them, she knew that he’d tried to warn Obi-Wan against taking things this far. It was hard to tell where his loyalties lay.

“Did you even notice…” he gestured to his cheek and suddenly, she was aware of a light sting against the side of her face. Bringing her hand up to touch the spot, she cringed at the feel of yet another burn that she would have to add to the collection. The ones from the night before had healed and disappeared. She would need to invest in a supply of bacta of her own.

“I suppose not,” shaking her head, she tried not to look sheepish. “I’m sorry Master Quin.”

“Either you were not focusing or you were _too_ focused,” he still wore that suspicious look. “Did you ever go to bed last night, little one?”

“Not until very late.” Well, it wasn’t _really_ a lie. She and Obi-Wan had not intended to stay awake so long, but they also had not been able to help themselves. “I apologize. I will try to get to bed at a proper hour tonight.”

“I want you to keep practicing with this hand,” he got to his feet and pointed at the hand holding her unlit hilt. “I think we should wait for a proper lesson after you’ve gotten some real sleep.”

“That’s not necessary,” Iza shook her head and tried to stop him from heading for the door. “I’m focused. I can—”

“You’re not the master, little one.” He wore that same dark look he’d had the day at the river when he scolded her. Iza knew she ought not to argue. “I say the lesson is over.”

“Yes Master Quin.”

“You’re dismissed.”

“Thank you, Master Quin,” Iza bowed lightly and waited for him to leave before she hung her lightsaber from her belt. Heaving a sigh, she wandered over to the bench and sat down hard. This was rather annoying. She wasn’t even _that_ tired. She’d just allowed herself to focus _too_ hard on Obi-Wan and maybe that hadn’t been the best idea. Iza couldn’t help it if he clouded all of her thoughts. It had been this way for years. She had always admired him, always felt a sort of _pull_ to him that she couldn’t explain. These thoughts often _helped_ her focus. She didn’t understand why they’d failed her this time.

“Padawan Tacor,”

Iza drew in a sharp breath and flinched at the familiar sound of her old master’s voice. For a moment, she just stared at the floor of the training arena. She hadn’t even felt him approaching. Picking her head up, she regarded him with the faintest of smiles and a polite nod.

“Master Windu,” she wished she was anywhere but here right now. It had been months since she’d last spoken to him. She dodged him in the halls and went out of her way to avoid going to places she knew he frequented. It hurt to see him here. He had no business looking at her with such a kind expression on his stern features. She did not want to stay here. Getting to her feet, she grabbed the water bottle she’d brought with her and gave a quick bow before she started to rush out.

“You seem to be doing well,” he called after her, halting her near the doorway. “You’ve made amazing progress.”

Iza wanted to pitch the water bottle at the back of his head. How _dare_ he? He had no right to say such a thing. He’d tossed her out like useless garbage because she wasn’t making progress at the rate he’d wanted her to. He’d believed the word of silly gossipers over _her_. He had deemed her to be too aggressive for his teachings. He had no kriffing right to say anything about her or her progress anymore. The only person whose opinion mattered to her was her true master—and he was no longer that person.

“Master Obi-Wan is a great teacher,” she said, trying to keep the bitterness out of her voice. “He is very patient.”

Windu let out a sound that she supposed was a laugh. It was hard to tell with him sometimes. He turned to look at her, that too-gentle look still on his face. She hated it. Hated him.

“Mind yourself, Padawan,” he gave such a knowing raise of his eyebrow that Iza nearly flinched. She especially hated the way he always knew how to read her. “There’s no need for such misguided anger.”

_Misguided?_

“I have to go,” Iza tried to bow again but it was more of a quick bob of the head. “Goodbye, Master Windu.”

“It was for your own good, Padawan Tacor,” he did not know when to quit, did he? “You would not have this chance to grow if I had not let you go.”

“ _Will of the Force_ , right? Is that what your excuse is going to be?” She couldn’t hold her bitter tone back anymore. “You spend five years with me and you just _release_ me like I’m some kind of… unwanted pet, and you’re going to say it’s for the sake of _growth?_ ”

“You believe I had other reasons, Padawan?”

“I believe I did not live up to your standards. I was not _peaceful_ enough for you. You constantly told me I would lose myself to the Dark Side if I continued my aggressive behavior.” Iza shrugged and turned her hands up. “Forgive me, Master Windu, but what am I supposed to believe?”

“You may choose to believe whatever you like, Padawan Tacor. But my intentions were not malicious. Surely, we have spent enough time with one another for you to know this?”

“I thought I knew what your intentions were for me, Master.” She took a slow breath that was meant to calm her but did absolutely nothing of the sort. “I know **_I_** never intended to disappoint you.”

“You believe you’ve done so?”

“You… _abandoned_ me!” Coming back into the room, Iza stared up at him incredulously. “You sent me to a primitive planet in the simplest of pods and told me to trade the parts for goods! You… you _exiled me!_ And I still don’t understand why. I don’t understand what I did. What lesson was I supposed to learn from this, Master? All I learned is that _you_ are very cruel beneath your deceptive peaceful shell.”

Windu didn’t say anything. For a long moment, he simply just studied her with that calm expression still plastered on his face. If Iza hadn’t already wanted to clobber him with something, she sure as hell wanted to now. How could he just stand there and look at her like that? How could he listen to her and not defend himself or say _anything_ to confirm or disprove her words? Finally, he drew in an impatient breath and folded his arms across his chest.

“What did you find on Ragoon VI, Padawan Tacor?”

“What?” Iza blinked, visibly stunned by the question.

“You spent a great deal of time out there. Nearly six months, if I’m not mistaken.” He shrugged and raised an eyebrow. “What did you find?”

She didn’t like how hard the realization slammed into her chest. She didn’t like that it strangled her until she couldn’t breathe and took away her ability to speak. She especially didn’t like the way it made her feel like an absolute _animal_ for behaving so shamefully towards her former master. He was right. Her anger was misguided. Iza could feel her face twitching as she fought to keep her features from crumbling. Master Windu never liked it much when she cried. The colors of his robes blurred into a dark beige blob the longer she stood there and tried to hold back the tears, bleeding back into focus when the bubble burst and they rushed down her cheeks. Immediately, she bowed at the waist as deeply as she could without tipping forward, holding herself there as her shoulders shook.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered to his boots. “Master, I’m—”

“I needed to let go in order for you to grow, young one.” His hands settled on her shoulders and gently guided her upright again. “You were never truly _my_ student. You simply needed someone with the patience to handle your frustrations before _someone else_ was ready to take you. My release of you was never about _abandonment_ , Padawan. I’m still here when you need me. _You_ need to let go of your resentments. They will only hinder your growth.”

“Yes Master Windu.” Iza nodded, swallowing thickly. “I’m—”

He put a hand up to silence her, shutting his eyes with a shake of his head. Of course he wouldn’t take any of this personally. He never took anything personally. Iza could cut his fingers off and he’d blame it on _the will of the Force_ somehow.

“Go get some rest. You feel exhausted.”

“Yes Master,”

Windu gave a light bow of his head, which she returned, and nudged her to send her on her way. Iza did not hesitate, though she did her best not to rush out of the room either. Once she was far enough from the training hall, she scrubbed her face with her sleeve. She didn’t need anyone seeing her like this. They didn’t need more reasons to taunt her. She was exhausted, she realized. Far more than she’d initially thought. She also wanted to know where Obi-Wan was. She hoped he hadn’t gotten into any trouble. She would feel horrible if someone had somehow _known_ she was in his room last night. Giving one last quick rub to her eyes, she lurched off toward the dormitory wing. Maybe she’d get lucky and see him on the way.

~*~*~*~

_The smell of blaster static hung thick in the air. Her muscles ached from the strain of overuse. All around her, flashes of blue and green and red flicked across her vision. **Where was Obi-Wan?**_

_The soft sound of something fragile hitting the ground sounded in her ears. She knew that sound. The echo of it was deafening above the noise of the chaos around her. She twisted and felt her heart drop into her stomach._

_The flutter of cream colored robes disappearing over the edge of the walkpath followed by red leather boots had her rocketing from the crate she stood upon. She dropped her lightsaber. Pitched herself over the edge after him._

_He smiled as he fell backwards into the endless abyss. She reached, scrabbled to grab his fingers. Their hands brushed and he became nothing more than vapor in front of her eyes._

_Gone._

_Lost to the Force._

**_Gone._ **

_She would never get him back._

**_GONE._ **

“ _Obi-Wan!_ ”

Iza sprang straight up in her bed with a harsh, cracked shout. Blind hands reached out into the air in front of her as she tried to grab for what wasn’t there. Thick, panicked tears rolled down her cheeks as she struggled to breathe and she fought back the urge to be sick. Dizzy. She was so dizzy. She didn’t know where she was. It took a long time for her to realize she was in her own room at the Temple and not in the cave. As she finally managed to get some of her bearings back she pressed her palms to her forehead and heaved a sob. A hard knock at the door made her jump and for a moment, her mind didn’t know how to process the sound. She let out a strangled sound and the person on the other side took it as permission to enter. Her heart leapt in her chest when Obi-Wan rushed in and crashed to his knees beside the bed, blue eyes wild and concerned.

“I heard you screaming,” he pushed the hair back from her face and checked her over for injuries. “Darling, what is it?”

The brunette stared at him like she wasn’t sure he was real. Bringing her hands up, she touched his face, fingers pressing against his cheeks and down along his neck to make sure he was solid. When she’d confirmed that this was _her_ Obi-Wan and not some illusion, Iza nearly threw herself out of the bed trying to get her arms around him. He barely managed to keep her from toppling him onto his back, throwing an arm out to stay upright while slinging the other around her trembling form.

“ _Iza?_ ”

“Don’t go,” she whimpered against his neck, squeezing him impossibly tight. “Don’t leave me.”

This was twice now she’d woken up from a dream begging him not to leave her. Obi-Wan wished with everything in him that he knew how to fix this. That horrified, haunted look in her eyes made him so damn sick to his stomach. But nothing was worse than the way she pleaded like she believed he would actually leave her. The helplessness in her voice would be stuck in his head for the remainder of the night.

“My darling,” he had to shift around in order to balance himself so he could wind his other arm around her. “I am not going anywhere.”

“You jumped,” her voice cracked and she shuddered hard against his chest. “I couldn’t catch you.”

He frowned against her shoulder. He had a distinct feeling he knew what she was dreaming about. He also couldn’t help feeling as though he’d had this same dream before from a different perspective. He didn’t want to ask for details. He’d heard too much.

“It was a dream, my darling girl,” he murmured, brushing his lips against her cheek. He had to do a quick check to make sure the door had shut behind him. It had. _Thank the Force._ “I’m right here.”

Iza only whimpered and tried to push herself deeper into his arms. He allowed it. Whatever would make her the most comfortable was fine with him. He spent a long time sitting with her, quietly whispering reassurances and giving gentle kisses as he cradled her to his chest. Her fear was hard to shake. It had settled somewhere deep in his chest and latched on with claws made of duranium. He would happily carry it for her if it meant she would not have to suffer with it, but Obi-Wan knew better. The bond was simply mirroring her torment to show him that it existed at all. They would both sit and suffer until she relaxed. He wasn’t sure now was an appropriate time to offer the lights to her. She seemed far too shaken up for that and she felt exhausted. Quinlan had told him she seemed unfocused during their Jar’Kai lesson that morning as well. He felt a small sense of guilt for having kept her up so late. They definitely would not be making a habit of that.

“What time is it?” Iza asked finally, not moving from where she had her face buried in his neck.

“It’s a little before supper,” running his fingers into her hair, he smiled and gave a soft chuckle. “You’ve slept the entire day away, my darling.”

“I’m sorry,”

“You do not need to apologize to me, Iza,” Obi-Wan leaned back to kiss her forehead before tucking his chin atop her head once more. “Clearly you needed the sleep.”

“I spoke to Master Windu today,” her fingers traced along his back distractedly before she shifted in his arms for a more comfortable position.

“You did?” That surprised him. She’d gone out of her way to avoid the man since they’d been back.

“He did it on purpose. But it wasn’t…” Iza frowned like she was trying to figure out how to explain the conversation. “He said I was never truly _his_ student. It’s like… he knew?”

“The man is _very_ strong with the Force, Iza,” Obi-Wan gave a light nod of his head. “It would not surprise me if he at least had an idea that he was meant to pass you on to someone else.”

“No—I mean…” she pursed her lips lightly and stared at the neckline of his robes. “He asked me _what I found_ on Ragoon VI. It was just a question. It didn’t feel like he was accusing me of anything. He even said letting go was for the sake of my _growth_. Obi-Wan…” glancing up, she tilted her head curiously. “Do you think… he did this purposely…?”

“Quin said something similar,” the older Jedi made a face. “He suggested that perhaps Master Windu sent me to check your progress on Ragoon VI and to continue your training in his place.”

“Why would he send Master Quin, though?”

“He didn’t.” Shrugging, Obi-Wan let out a soft laugh. “I asked Quin to come because of his skills in psychometry. I would never have found you out there if I’d gone alone. If not for his insistence… I may not have made the decision at all.”

“Master Quin is certainly racking up the points.” Iza snorted and nestled her cheek against his shoulder, sighing quietly. “I’m ashamed of the things I said to Master Windu this morning. I tried to apologize, but he would not allow me to do so.”

“He’s an understanding man, Iza. I believe he picked you for a reason, even if it was to just be a placeholder.” Pressing a kiss to her brow, he smiled and nuzzled at her hairline. “You have a terrible habit of downplaying yourself, my girl. There is nothing wrong with being humble, but you are very hard on yourself when you needn’t be.”

“I wonder where I get it?” Flicking a pointed gaze up to meet his, she pursed her lips.

“Do not pin this on me.”

“I followed all of your examples, Obi-Wan,” she paused and made a face. “ _I tried to._ ”

“You have done very well for yourself, Iza. Master Windu did more for you in your early years than I could have. You must accept that.”

“I… have. I am.”

“You always seem so worried, darling. As if you fear our time together will be short.” Tilting his head, Obi-Wan brushed a finger beneath her chin and frowned lightly. “This is not another quick study mentorship. You understand that, right? I’m with you as your teacher until you’ve become a Knight.”

“And after that?” Green eyes searched his face, more worry beginning to seep in. “Am I meant to just give you up to another?”

“ _Darling_ ,” his smile was soft and affectionate. Truly, it pained him sometimes how she let her feelings rule her this way. He wished he didn’t have to teach her to suppress them. It didn’t seem fair. “Have you seen me _give up_ Master Qui-Gon? Or Aayla give up Quin? I will be your master until you feel you no longer need my guidance. And I will simply be _yours_ beyond that.”

“Am I selfish?” The question was innocent enough, but Obi-Wan wasn’t sure he knew how to answer it.

“No more selfish than I for not wanting to give _you_ up, I suppose,”

“Are we not supposed to—”

“I think… the Force would not allow this if we were not meant to have it.” He paused and nodded like he was confirming it with himself. “We must stick to our Code, darling. But we can make this work.”

Iza thought about asking what they would do if they could no longer stick to the Code. Already, she was struggling. She wanted things that were not permitted, things she didn’t dare ask of him because she could not bear the idea of making him stray even further than he already had. She trusted him when he said they could make it work. It wasn’t like there weren’t others. As long as they remembered to keep their loyalty to the Order as well as to each other, then this could work.

“You’re making that face,” Obi-Wan whispered, smiling gently.

“I do not think I know what _face_ this is.”

“It’s your _I have a question, Master_ face.” Again, he pressed his lips to her forehead. “You may ask if you like,”

“Can we go to the night market?” He would not be squeezing that question out of her tonight. That was something that could be saved for a time when she was not so emotionally compromised. Iza wanted to go out and get some fresh air—as fresh as Coruscant could offer, anyhow. Maybe it would clear her head. “I do not want to eat in the refectory tonight.”

“I suppose we can do that,” Obi-Wan studied her for a moment. He had the distinct feeling she was not being truthful. He also would not push for further insight. “Shall I leave you to get dressed?”

“You do not want to take me in my nightclothes?” Iza blinked at him innocently, fighting back the cheeky grin that tried to crawl across her lips. Obi-Wan smiled at her adoringly and shook his head, tutting softly. _This girl._

“I will meet you in the hallway.” A soft chuckle rumbled in his throat as he pressed a quick kiss to her lips. “I suggest your poncho if you have one. It is not terribly warm out and I’ve noticed you’re not a fan of the outer robe.”

“They’re _heavy_.” Iza made a face. “And mine was not tailored properly. I always trip on it.”

“You have not asked to have it hemmed?”

“I do not wish to be a bother,”

“You are… a very funny girl.” Laughing quietly, Obi-Wan shook his head again and gave her a nudge to urge her to her feet. “While I admire your independence, you must learn to ask for things at times, darling. You have never had a problem asking things of _me_ , after all.”

“That is _not_ true,” Iza snorted, reaching to give him her hand to help him up. She doubted he needed it; she simply wanted to hold his hand for a moment. “I do not ask a lot of you because I would take all your time if I did and that’s unfair to everyone else in the Temple.”

“It’s appreciated.” Once on his feet, he sighed quietly and glanced around the room. There were not many things in here. Datapads stacked on her desk topped by a box of silken beads he assumed were from Quinlan. Her rucksack from Ragoon VI sat beneath the desk, still stuffed with her belongings that she had yet to unpack. Quietly, he hoped there were no food items inside of it. Her robes were neatly folded on the chair nearby with her lightsabers set on top. Perhaps he needed to get her a mount for them? Her training staffs were in the corner—he was surprised she’d been able to keep them in here—but as he turned the rest of the way around, his eyes were drawn back to the desk. Curious, he stepped closer and picked up a small blue stone. It didn’t appear to be anything special. It was smooth and flat and heavy and oval in shape. Something about it seemed oddly familiar, but he couldn’t put a finger on it. Turning it over in his hand, he glanced over his shoulder at Iza and found her watching him.

“You don’t remember, do you?” She said after a few moments of the two of them just gazing at one another.

“I…”

“You gave that to me.” Iza gestured to the stone. “When I was a youngling, I think I was having trouble focusing during meditation. You were in charge of my clan for an afternoon and you asked me what I thought about to help relax. I remember not having an answer and you told me to pick something I thought was nice. I said I would think of your eyes because blue was my favorite color.” She looked at her feet and flushed bright red as she tried to keep the sheepish smile at bay. “I think you just kind of laughed, but not in a mean way. You visited a couple days after that with Master Qui-Gon and you gave that to me. You said it would be easier than trying to remember what your eyes looked like every time. As if I could forget.”

As she spoke, Obi-Wan could picture the memory clear as day. He remembered now. He remembered going into the city with Master Qui-Gon the day after his turn watching that clan of younglings and seeing the stone at a market booth. He hadn’t been able to explain why he felt the need to buy it. Master Qui-Gon hadn’t said anything, but there’d been a _look_. Obi-Wan was sure that he thought it’d been for a girl he was sweet on or something. As if his master _ever_ had room to talk. Qui-Gon might not have ever acted on his attractions, but there were a fair few of the older Jedi women at the Temple who were certainly sweet on _him_. The older man had been quite surprised when he’d gifted the stone to the youngling girl. Obi-Wan was pretty sure that was about the time Iza’s fascination with him began. He couldn’t seem to recall her presence in his life aside from maybe a wave or two in the halls before that. Perhaps this moment had been when their bond had formed? When the Force had decided they were meant to be in each other’s lives?

“I carried it around a lot,” Iza continued, coming over to lean on his side and rest her cheek against his arm. “I almost lost it once and then I stopped bringing it everywhere. I suppose that’s why I chased after the crystal like I did. It doesn’t matter that it could’ve been replaced. _You_ gave it to me. That makes it special.”

Obi-Wan set the stone back on the desk and turned to her, sliding his fingers beneath her chin to tilt her head up. Bowing his head, he pressed a tender kiss to her lips, lingering for a long time and stealing more because one just didn’t feel like enough. When he finally found enough sense to pull back, he rested his forehead to hers and lightly traced along the curve of her jaw, keeping his eyes shut. He let out a short laugh, smiling against her lips.

“Such a silly girl, you are,” he murmured, kissing her bottom lip. “I adore you, darling.”

“And what makes me silly?” Iza pouted, running her fingertips along the side of his neck. “My sentimental nature, or my unwillingness to let go of trinkets?”

“All of it,” he hummed and kissed her again. “Perhaps aside from your carelessness, I would not change a thing.”

“You cannot change my carelessness, Obi-Wan,” she leaned up on her toes and nuzzled at his cheek. “I have been this way for a _long_ time.”

“So I have noticed,” giving a tiny pinch to her jaw, Obi-Wan grinned playfully and drew back with a sigh. “I shall let you get dressed. If we dawdle in here any longer, someone is likely going to get suspicious.”

“Nobody saw you come in here,” Iza frowned.

“As far as I know—no they did not. _However_ , I do know that these guards have sharp senses. You cannot sneak around this part of the Temple very easily.”

“I do not want to know why you know that. Get out. I’ll see you in a few minutes.” Putting her hands up in a shooing motion, Iza shook her head and pretended to grumble when he leaned over to kiss the side of her head.

“We will be taking the bike.” He warned, watching her shoulders sag. “Take care to bind your hair back, darling.”

“ _Obi-Wan._ ”

He said nothing. Just gave the _cheekiest_ little wink and a soft smile before he turned and walked out of the room. Iza whined after him, kicking the leg of the chair once he’d gone. She’d been dreading that. Why couldn’t he just take a normal landspeeder? Grumbling to herself, she changed her clothes and combed her hair out before binding it back in a tight braid. She didn’t feel like fussing with twists and pins. Taking her poncho from the closet, she draped it over her arm and barely remembered to clip her lightsabers in place before heading out of the room. At first, she was confused. The hallway was completely empty. Surely she hadn’t taken so long that he’d gotten impatient? That thought made her snort. _Obi-Wan Kenobi, impatient?_ The man could likely outdo Master Yoda in a patience competition. Frowning, Iza walked down the corridor a short ways and felt the familiar chill up her back that let her know he was nearby. Turning, she found him deep in conversation with Master Qui-Gon. The older man looked concerned and Obi-Wan seemed to be trying to appear as nonchalant as ever. When she reached along the warm link that stretched between them, she felt a sense of anxiety in him that made her worry. Had he been caught?

She watched as a funny look crossed his features and he briefly twitched his head in her direction. He didn’t linger. Master Qui-Gon noticed. The older Jedi turned and regarded her with a long look that was unreadable. He said something to Obi-Wan and then patted his shoulder before turning to walk away. That anxious feeling got worse and, in turn, made _Iza’s_ anxiety worsen. Obi-Wan didn’t move from his spot for a few minutes, appearing to think something over as he thinned his lips and drummed his fingertips against his arm. She felt sick. She couldn’t explain why and she wasn’t sure if it was from her end or his, but she didn’t like it. Pivoting on her heel, the brunette moved to head down the corridor away from this feeling. She heard him shout after her and kept walking. When she heard footsteps coming up behind her, Iza broke out into a full run. She wasn’t supposed to run in the Temple. Not without a reason. She had one. Her heart was beating so damn hard in her chest as she weaved between people lingering in the halls and twice she swore she felt Obi-Wan’s fingers graze the back of her robes. She wasn’t sure how she’d gotten outside but she got about as far as the third column before his chest slammed into her back.

“ _Iza!_ ” He was out of breath and sounded confused. His hands clamped down on her arms to prevent her from rushing away from him again and she dropped her poncho, refusing to look at him. “What is this about?!”

“ _You tell me!_ ”

“My girl,” he’d only just been able to keep from calling her _darling_. “I was only talking to Qui-Gon,”

“Why did he look at me like that? Why does it feel like you’re about to have a heart attack?”

“He was just…” Obi-Wan wasn’t sure how to tell her this. “I may have an assignment. I’m not sure yet. He was just giving me a head’s up.”

“You?” She stiffened and twisted in his hold, staring up at him. “ _Just you?_ ”

“Iza,”

“I thought _we_ were supposed to get an assignment? You petitioned for the _both_ of us, didn’t you?”

“Yes, of course!” He let go of her arms and cupped her shoulders. “Iza, this is not… I did not ask for this assignment.”

“Can’t you refuse it?” _Selfish_. She was such a selfish girl.

He opened his mouth like he was going to say something, drew in a breath—and then closed his mouth again. He looked conflicted. His eyes didn’t quite meet hers when he looked at her again.

“I was specifically requested for the assignment.”

“Get off me,” pushing his hands away, Iza stooped to grab her poncho and continue her way off the steps of the Temple. She heard him follow after her and clenched her teeth when he took hold of her again. “Are you—”

“You need to listen to me,” he was using that tone she hated. The one that took the sweet shimmer from his eyes and made her heart cold. “This is what we do, Iza. I told you that we can make this work but we cannot forget our Code. I must… put my personal feelings aside and do my job. You must put yours aside and accept that. You have things you need to focus on. As your _master_ , I am telling you to let this go. There will be times when we have to be apart. You **_must_** accept it.”

“You promised,” she wished she didn’t feel like crying. “You promised we would go together.”

“This is out of my hands, Iza. I cannot take you.”

“You do not have to accept.” Iza knew pleading would get her nowhere. She was not a child and she had already been scolded for allowing her feelings to rule her. But she couldn’t help it. Her heart felt such strong things for him that it hurt terribly when he did or said certain things. She wondered how she would ever become a Jedi if she could not control it.

“ _Iza_ ,”

“ _Go,_ then. Take your assignment. Tell me how you _adore_ me and would not change a thing about me and then demand for me not to feel like this when you break a promise.” Her face crumbled and she covered it with her free hand, staring at him for a moment through her fingers before she shook her head. “ _We_ were supposed to leave this place. A night on Ilum is not what I wanted. It is not fair that _you_ get to leave and I must stay and suffer.”

“Darling, please do not do this,” Obi-Wan lowered his voice. He never knew when the wrong eyes or ears were around. He considered himself lucky Iza was not screaming. “I have not gone out of my way to hurt you. You must understand that.”

“I do not want to _be_ here anymore, Obi-Wan,” Iza wouldn’t look at him. “I want to go where _you_ go. I thought that… as your Padawan, that was what I would do? As your lover, you would _want_ me with you?”

He didn’t want to lose his patience with her. He could feel quite clearly that she felt almost _betrayed_ at the idea of not being allowed to go along with him on this assignment—that he hadn’t even decided to accept yet—but she was also behaving quite childishly about it as well. He had not asked for this. He wasn’t sure he even wanted it. But the more she continued her fussing, the more he leaned toward taking it just to further put his foot down and give her the lesson she needed in _not_ letting her feelings rule her.

“You cannot always go with me.”

“ _You_ always went with Master Qui-Gon. Anakin goes with him _everywhere_. You can’t say that _both_ of you were so troublesome that he couldn’t leave either of you behind?”

“Every master does things differently, Iza.” Obi-Wan fixed her with a look that made her face fall even more. He hated when she did that. It felt so unfair. “Sometimes our assignments are for _one_ Jedi, not two. And if it’s a personal request—”

“I want to go back to Ragoon VI.” Her voice was dry when she said it.

“You cannot.”

“If I have to be left on my own, let it be in a place where I _want_ to be alone.” Iza shook her head and gestured towards the Temple. “You do not understand how unwelcome I feel here. Even with you as my master— _especially_ with you as my master, the other Padawans are still so unkind to me. I do not want to be alone here. I refuse.”

“You will not be alone, Iza,” he wondered why she hadn’t said anything. He had noticed that perhaps some of the girls had become a little cold towards her. A lot of the girls tended to become quite bitter with one another if he paid attention to _any_ of them. It was ridiculous. But she had not expressed any of this to him until now. She was still hiding from him. “Quinlan will be here, as will Master Qui-Gon. I cannot just drop you on Ragoon VI whenever I won’t be around.”

“Why not?”

“To start—these things have to be approved by the Council. As you can see, it takes a while for them to decide on _anything_ sometimes.” Obi-Wan shrugged and waved a hand. “I also will not be able to focus if I know you are offworld and on your own.”

“But _I_ am meant to behave as though everything is fine? That’s unfair.”

He ran his fingers through his hair, exhaling sharply through his nose. He was _very_ close to losing his grasp on what threads of patience he had left. He did not want to do this. He just wanted to take her out for a night in the city and forget about this. Damn Qui-Gon for having the worst timing in the universe. Damn all of this for happening in the first place.

“Iza,” he scrubbed his hand against his beard and stared at the pavement. “What would you have me do? I cannot refuse this offer. It is a _personal request_. It would be like me refusing to help Quinlan. Darling— _we are Jedi_.”

“ _You_ are a Jedi,” Iza gathered her poncho against her chest and took a few steps away from him, turning like she intended to leave down the walkpath. “I’m just a Padawan learner.”

“You are a _child_.”

Iza tripped on her feet and stumbled, barely catching herself before she pitched forward onto the pavement. Her body tensed as she straightened and she felt a sense of regret in her chest that didn’t belong to her. The sick feeling she’d woken up with had returned and she couldn’t breathe. Her feet moved of their own accord as she started forward down the walkpath, slowly at first until she eventually broke out into a dead run that had her lungs burning. She didn’t know where she was going. She just wanted to put as much space between her and Obi-Wan as possible. She could feel him behind her— _of course_ —and she began darting down different paths, pushing off the pavement with the assistance of the Force to launch herself further away from him. She could see the city getting closer. She didn’t need that stupid bike. She could get here on foot.

Strong arms slipped around her from behind, wrapped tight around her torso as the familiar weight of a chest hit her back and lifted her off her feet. Iza shouted in protest, thrashing hard enough to take them both to the ground. His hands clamped down against her arms to keep her from striking out at him, but it did not stop her from trying to use her legs to get up. Digging the heels of her boots against the pavement to try and gain some leverage, Iza yelled until she was hoarse and nearly strained every muscle in her back trying to fight against his hold. Obi-Wan would not budge. It was as though he’d anchored them both to the spot. He likely had. Frustrated, she kicked out and ducked her head, curling up as much as she could with a hard sob. Unfair. He couldn’t even let her be angry at him in peace. _Unfair_.

“I didn’t mean it,” he whispered harshly against the back of her neck, relieved she’d stopped struggling so damn hard. “I didn’t mean it, darling,”

“You’re _terrible!_ ”

“I am,” he nodded and kissed her shoulder. “I am. That was uncalled for and I’m sorry.”

“I do not want you to go. All of my dreams end with you never returning to me. _I do not want you to go_.”

“Darling,” he did not know what to say to that. He could, on a level, understand why it would cause her to fight so strongly. He also felt he had a duty to tell her they were only dreams. He would return to her. This was not the kind of assignment where he would need to worry about that sort of thing. She had not given him a chance to explain that. He likely would not even be considering it if it were. He had, after all, _promised_ to take her on an adventure. This was anything but an adventure.

“ _Please do not leave me, Obi-Wan_.”

She was going to ruin him. She would ruin everything he’d worked hard to become. A tiny part of him wondered if that was such a terrible thing. Breathing a heavy sigh, he eased up his hold on her and turned her in his arms, gathering her against his chest as he sat them both up. His hands came up to cradle her head and urge her into looking at him. She wouldn’t. Her eyes stayed shut tight as she sucked in shivery breaths and heaved them back out in hard sobs. _Weak._ He was so damn weak for her. He did his best to soothe her with kisses to her face, wiping the tears from her cheeks with his thumbs. It did little good, but it eased some of the ache in his soul to not see such a mess. Resting his forehead to hers, he breathed deep and let it out in a slow sigh.

“Iza, my darling, _please_ listen to me,” he waited, half holding his breath to see if she would cease the heavy sounds she made. She appeared to make an attempt, although she continued to whimper and sniffle in between deep swallows of air. “I am _not_ leaving you. It is just a quick job. _Just a job_. I am not going anywhere dangerous. I will not be doing anything dangerous. Nothing on the level you seem to believe. I will not be gone long and I will return straight home to you.”

“I do not understand,” she paused to suck down a hiccupping breath and sniffle hard. “—why I cannot go. I will not get in the way. I will behave.”

Obi-Wan could not help but smile at her. So stubborn, his girl was. Stroking his thumb against her cheek, he sighed quietly and shook his head.

“It is not a question of whether or not you will mind yourself, my darling girl. If it were up to me, I would not leave you behind. As I’ve said multiple times—this was a _personal_ request.”

“From who?”

“An old acquaintance.” Using the word _friend_ felt wrong, somehow. He also felt she might start snooping if he gave away too much information and he did not want her getting hurt any further than she already was.

“If it is such a simple job, why does it have to be you? Why not someone else?”

That was a good damn question.

“I do not have the answer to that, darling.” He shrugged lightly, sweeping away a stray tear.

“And you’re certain you cannot refuse?”

“Iza,” he wanted to be gentle with her. He was doing his best to keep from upsetting her further as it was. He just wished she would stop circling back to this. It was not so much that her stubbornness was an annoyance—he simply needed her to understand that she could not always get her way with him. Especially not when Jedi matters were concerned. “In this case, I cannot turn it down.”

She let out a wet huff of breath and fixed him with such a pitiful look. Obi-Wan had started wondering recently if the Force had meant to pair him with such a soft-hearted girl. He thought maybe it was her age that kept her feelings so close to the surface at times. And then he realized that she most certainly should have learned to at least _conceal_ them a little better by now. She’d done well enough on Ragoon VI for a while. He wondered what had changed. Certainly there had to be a reason for this shift in her ability to let go of certain things and accept them? It bothered him that he could not figure out what it might be.

“You must know that I would take you if I could?” He tilted his head a little and fit his lips gently against hers in a sweet kiss. “I do not wish to be away from you, either. But I _must_. And _you_ must be stronger than this, darling. I know it hurts. But you must not let that hurt consume you. I dread the thought of what may become of you if you do.”

“Can we stay away from the Temple tonight?” Iza’s voice was soft and weak, like she was on the verge of just giving up on fighting for anything from him altogether. She had this one last request and if he denied it, she might just stop asking for favors or promises. His brows flicked lightly upward as he regarded her curiously, trying to make sense of the request. It took him a few moments, but he soon understood. It was not a smart idea—but it was something they could do.

“Yes, my darling,” he murmured, pulling her in closer. “This, I can give you.”

~*~*~*~

Iza could not hold onto him tight enough. His shoulders kept slipping out from beneath her fingers, yet he seemed to go nowhere at all. The air in the room was so damn hot, not unlike the mouth working to mark the curve of her neck. _Force_ he made her body feel so wild. His hands seemed to know exactly where to touch, how to touch, _when_ she wanted him to touch her there. She couldn’t get enough. The unfortunate knock on the motel door seemed to have other plans, however.

“ _Damn it,_ ” he hardly ever swore, but Iza certainly did not mind it when he did. “Darling, that’s our food.”

She whined. She may have also smacked the arm of the sofa they were stretched out on, but she was too dazed to care. She heard him chuckle and felt him plant a few kisses to her cheek as he pulled his hand free from her tunic, calling that he’d _be a moment_ to whoever was on the other side of the door. When he had gone and taken his delightfully warm weight with him, Iza half flung herself across the length of the sofa in a dramatic, pouty fashion. If there was something she hated more than being told she needed to have _patience_ or to be _mindful_ , it was being made to wait once he’d pushed all of these new buttons. He left her with such a deep _craving_ for more of him that it often made her quite irritable when she was left to wait too long. Watching the lights with him seemed to make it worse, at times. It certainly was not a suitable substitute, either.

“Sorry about that, my dear,” Obi-Wan wandered back into her line of sight with the delivery carton and set it on the table adjacent to the sofa. She watched as he sat back down on the end of the sofa and proceeded to open the carton and peer inside before attempting to distribute their meals.

“What are you doing?” She mumbled, watching him pause to look at her.

“Er—I thought you were hungry?”

“You can think about food? _Now?_ ”

A funny little look crossed his face before he smiled at her and chuckled the way he usually did when he thought she was being _silly_. Normally, Iza wouldn’t have minded much. Right now, she found it a bit annoying. Watching as he continued to set the take-away cartons out—complete with the plastic tableware—she almost nudged him off the sofa with her foot. Instead, she turned over onto her belly and pulled one of the decorative pillows into her arms, burying her face in it.

“Darling,”

“I do not want supper.” She muttered, voice muffled by the plush velvet. She heard him sigh and felt the sofa shift beneath his weight before a hand settled against the back of her thigh. Iza tried not to react, but it wasn’t easy. Especially not when he drummed his fingers against the inside of it.

“It will get cold.” He said pointedly, tapping a nonsensical rhythm with his fingertips.

“I care not.” She shifted a little under the guise of further burying her face into the pillow. His hand shifted higher and she knew he’d felt her thigh tense beneath the touch. The sofa shifted again and his knee slid between her legs, the rest of his body following as he carefully settled down against her back. He brushed her hair away from her ear and Iza let out a soft noise when his teeth sank gently into the edge of it.

“You’ll get _nothing_ if you do not eat.”

“ _Obi-Wan!_ ” It wasn’t a protest. Iza wasn’t even sure what that reaction had been. The deep rasp in his voice had sent such a chill down her spine and made her body burn so violently that she couldn’t explain _why_ she’d just blurted his name like that. The chuckle that rumbled against her back suggested he’d expected such a reaction. She felt his fingers sliding along her waist, the heavy dip of his hips against her lower back, and his teeth setting against the edge of her ear once more.

“Iza, my darling,” _What an **animal** of a man._

“I yield,” she huffed into the pillow, shivering.

"Good girl," he sat up, patting her backside. "Up you get, dear."

Iza let out a hard rush of breath into the pillow, taking a minute to gather herself before she sat up. Looking over at him, she did so with a wariness that he did not seem to notice. _His_ demeanor hadn’t seemed to change much at all. He wore his usual expression of polite patience as he smiled at her. There wasn’t a single hint of whatever _demon_ had just possessed him and whispered so wickedly in her ear. Even his eyes hid any clue as to what the hell had just happened. It made her wonder for a moment if it’d happened at all. He tilted his head at her in silent question, a brow going up as his smile widened a fraction.

“Is something the matter? You’re quite flushed, darling,”

She wasn’t sure if she needed to pinch herself or not. _How the hell did he do that?_ Shaking her head, she tucked her legs beneath her and brushed the loose bits of hair out of her eyes, noting the tender sensation of teeth marks in her ear when she tucked the strands behind it. No—it’d happened. It had _definitely_ happened. And it had left her with a horrible ache between her thighs and a feeling in the pit of her stomach that she wasn’t sure was _fear_ or _excitement_. She didn’t feel the shift of his weight on the sofa until he was resting his chin on her shoulder, the brush of his mouth on her neck making her shiver.

“Have I frightened you?” He asked gently, his fingers smoothing over the small of her back.

“I don’t know,” _Well_ , she didn’t. The puff of breath from his laugh made goosebumps rise and spread down the back of her neck.

“Perhaps I should not have been so forceful,” he hummed and nuzzled at her ear. “I do not think you are ready for that side of me, my dear girl,”

Iza leaned back to look at him questioningly. What the _hell_ did that mean? How many _sides_ did he have? And how could he hide them from her like that? Biting down on her bottom lip in thought, she shook her head.

“I… it…” why was it that she got so damn flustered trying to explain to him how he made her body feel? “I’m not frightened. I’m…” she pressed her lips together in a thin line and glanced at him. “… _hot_.”

Obi-Wan smiled at her. A different smile than the one she’d been expecting. She’d thought maybe he might smile the same way he did when she said something he thought was _cute_. This was almost _villainous_ in nature. It fed the fire in her belly and sent it to more sinful places, making her shift in her seat and let out another harsh breath. No, she most definitely was _not_ frightened. She was curious about what sort of man hid behind a smile like that. Was he anything like the Obi-Wan she knew and adored? Would he treat her just as tenderly or would his touch be rough and careless? Iza shuddered lightly at the idea of him being unable to control himself and his hands.

Maybe that was why she let out such a heavy sound when he stroked his finger beneath her chin. It was an innocent touch. He’d given it to her a hundred times. But he’d never looked at her with such fire in his eyes while she thought horribly sinful things as he did it. Iza watched the way his eyes lit up and widened in surprise as though he hadn’t expected the sound at all. She started to open her mouth to apologize and he tapped his finger against her lips, shaking his head.

“ _Supper_.” His tone had changed again. She would have to ask him how he did that. Iza nodded and closed her eyes when he kissed the side of her head, almost whining again when he drew away from her to reclaim his spot on the other end of the sofa. It took her a moment to get her breathing under control again before she could move. She hoped he wouldn’t see how badly her hands were trembling as she reached to get her carton of food open. He had been sweet enough to order something that actually suited her tastes. Some kind of lightly roasted fish and a vibrant array of vegetables sat waiting for her beneath the lid of the carton. She gave no thought as she reached to pluck one of the colorful vegetables up with her fingers, gasping when the back of his fork rapped against her knuckles.

“ _Hey!_ ”

“There’s tableware,” he gestured to the plastic fork and knife that he’d set out for her. “Use it, darling.”

She looked over at him as if to ask if he was crazy. He’d watched her eat with nothing but her hands for months. There had been _one_ spoon to go around at camp for soup nights, and he had been the only one to use it. Surely he was jesting? Judging by the look he gave her, _he was not_. Giving him an irritated look, she picked the fork up and stuck it through the piece of food she’d initially intended to eat. This time, she got about halfway to her mouth before he stopped her again.

“ _Obi-Wan!_ ”

“Must you eat like you have no manners?” He frowned at her and picked up the knife to hand it to her. “Take your time.”

Iza felt like screaming. She almost didn’t even want to eat anymore. To hell with whatever tricks he had promised for after supper. She did not enjoy being corrected so much for something so silly.

“If you have something you’d like to say, you may say it.” He said patiently, cutting apart a piece of _whatever_ it was he’d ordered for himself. It looked like some kind of steak. He popped it into his mouth and chewed slowly, looking expectant.

“I’ve nothing to say, Master,” she muttered back, turning to start cutting into her food. When he stopped her a third time by sliding her carton over towards him, Iza threw the tableware down and got to her feet. She got about halfway across the room before a hard tug behind her navel halted her and rooted her to the spot. “ _Obi-Wan Kenobi!_ ”

“Sit down and finish your meal,”

“You’ve taken it from me!”

“I told you not to call me _Master_ when we’re together like this,” he looked so nonchalant when she looked back at him.

“You are being…” he likely knew exactly how he was behaving; she didn’t need to tell him. “Why can’t I just _eat?_ You wish for me to eat, just let me _eat_.”

“I would prefer for you to use the tableware, Iza.” He shrugged like this was something that shouldn’t need to be discussed. “There is nothing wrong with that.”

“You didn’t have a problem with me using my hands before.” She argued back, frowning.

“There wasn’t much of a choice before.”

“Well, you needn’t be so picky with how I use it, then!” Throwing her hands out, Iza gave a light stomp of her foot and watched as he just observed her and chewed for a moment. He seemed to mull this over before tipping his head lightly and soon, the weighted feeling in her gut lifted.

“Sit down. Eat.”

Iza just stared at him. She felt a gentle nudge of invisible fingers against her lower back and, after a few moments, made her way back over to the sofa. Sitting down hard on her corner, she took back the carton when he passed it over. Picking up the fork again she picked away at the food in silence. She didn’t enjoy feeling like he was judging the way she sometimes broke off larger bites or that she preferred to mix the fish with specific vegetables. Perhaps if he hadn’t made such a huge fuss in the first place, she wouldn’t feel so self-conscious.

“Darling?”

She turned to look at him, finding him with his fork held out and his hand beneath it. She still wasn’t entirely sure what it was he’d ordered. It could’ve just been standard steak and potatoes for all she knew. The soft look on his face eased a little of the burning annoyance in her gut and she leaned over to gingerly take the offered bite. At first, she wasn’t sure what to make of the flavor. The meat and potato were fine; it was the sauce that was a little funny. She must’ve made a face because he let out an amused sound and pursed his lips lightly as he watched her chew.

“I suppose I could have given you some without the wine sauce.” He saw the way her eyes widened and waved his hand. “It’s only for the flavor, darling. The alcohol has been cooked out.”

“I didn’t know you liked to eat such things.” It had looked like a bit of a fancy dish when he’d taken the lid off. Much fancier than her simple fish and vegetable dinner, anyhow. Obi-Wan glanced to what was left in the container and shrugged a shoulder.

“Every now and then, I think a treat is deserved.” His brows went up quickly like he’d remembered something. “Speaking of which—”

He set aside his container and reached for the carton their food had arrived in. Iza watched curiously as he pulled a smaller container from the bottom and held it up with a smile before he lifted the lid. Inside, sat a half dozen pieces of fruit that had been dipped in some sort of brown sauce. Iza had never seen anything like it before. Looking between the container and Obi-Wan, she tilted her head in silent question and got a raised brow in return.

“Surely you know what this is?”

She shook her head.

“My girl,” it was hard to tell if his laugh was one of confusion or amusement. “Have you never eaten chocolate?”

Again, Iza shook her head. She felt a wave of embarrassment over the confession for some reason. It was like having admitted that she’d never done something as simple as _gone outside_ or _breathed_. It suddenly felt on par with the _other thing_ she’d had yet to do before they had been paired together and now she wondered what she might have been missing out on. Obi-Wan hummed thoughtfully and set the container on the cushion between them, reaching to take Iza’s carton from her. She wasn’t done, but she’d had enough. Moving closer, he picked the smaller container back up and plucked one of the pieces of fruit—a berry of some kind, it seemed—from its resting place before holding it up to her lips.

“I insist you try it, then.”

There was a small moment of hesitation on her part, if only because she did not know what to expect. Surely Obi-Wan would not feed her anything that would make her ill or make her head do funny things like the mushrooms on Ragoon VI had. She trusted him with her whole heart. They may have their moments of frustration with one another, but it did not do anything to damage that trust. Looking to the odd berry, Iza parted her lips and leaned in to take a delicate bite. At first, all she tasted was the semi-sweet tartness of the fruit. If, perhaps, the juice had not rushed into her mouth the way that it had, she might’ve had a better chance at tasting the brown sauce on the outside first. But once the flavor of that had been swallowed, it gave way to something _sweet_ and slightly _milky_ in flavor. It was not strong, but not mild either. Paired with the tanginess of the fruit, it was quite rich. She certainly had never tasted anything quite like it before.

“Well?” Obi-Wan smiled and tipped his head at her.

“It’s very sweet,” if she was frowning, it was only because she was still trying to figure out how she felt about the flavor. “But… also bitter?”

“You may have gotten an underripe berry,” pulling the fruit back, he swept his finger through the sticky confection and brought that to her lips instead. “Here, try it like this.”

She stared at him and his casual expression, feeling her cheeks heat. Could he not have just scraped it onto a fork? Mr. _Use the Tableware?_ Deciding she did not feel like starting another argument about manners, Iza took the tip of his finger into her mouth and gently sucked the chocolate from his skin. She felt a bit awkward at first, especially since his eyes were watching her so intently. But she found that the flavor of the sauce was different this way. Still rich and sweet, but it did not taste quite as _milky_ as it had with the fruit juice blended into it. It took a long moment before she realized that she no longer tasted the chocolate with the tiny sweeps of her tongue against the pad of his finger, but he did not seem to mind much. Easing back, she found she could not take her eyes away from his.

“Better?” He asked, finishing the other half of the berry she’d started. Iza wondered if he knew she could see how his breathing had changed. She also wondered if he’d done this on purpose.

“Much,” she nodded, watching the subtle way his mustache seemed to twitch upward. He let out another one of those thoughtful _hums_ and plucked another berry from the container, leaning forward and flashing that damn devilish look before he painted her bottom lip with the sauce at the end of it.

“I prefer it like this, too.” He leaned in, drew her lip in between his and lightly sucked it clean. His tongue followed to swipe up any leftover remnants and he pressed closer to kiss her, growling softly into her mouth. Iza didn’t know what to do with any of the feelings running through her. This was _new_ and it was _intense_. She whined when he broke away but he didn’t seem to notice. He was too busy checking the carton for something. When he produced an even smaller container and that wicked look became even wickeder, she made a quiet noise and got a curious glance in return. Tilting his head, the wicked look softened—only slightly—and he smiled. “Have I done it again, darling?”

“What is that?” Iza wouldn’t have him thinking she was scared. She was—but only _a little_. It wasn’t a bad kind of scared, really. Just the kind that had her wanting to know what might come next.

“This?” He held the tiny tub up. “More of the chocolate.”

She suddenly had a very good idea of what his intentions were. She didn’t know what else he would need an _extra_ container of the sweet sauce for. The berries certainly had enough of a coating on them. He had most certainly planned this. Suddenly, his demand that she eat her supper or she would get _nothing_ made sense. Absently, she sucked her bottom lip into her mouth and tasted the faintest hint of the chocolate there. She could not explain why it made her shiver.

“ _Iza_ ,” he drawled her name in a way that made her damn toes curl. What _was_ this? Had he put her under some sort of mind trick? She hadn’t known Jedi could do that to other Force sensitives. “My dear, if I’m making you uncomfortable, you know you only need to say so.”

“Not uncomfortable,” she shook her head insistently. “Just… confused.”

“Confused, darling?”

“You do not feel like _you_.”

The wicked look drained away entirely, then. Setting aside the food items, he moved closer and gathered her onto his lap—which seemed _very_ happy to have her in it. Winding his arms around her, Obi-Wan nuzzled at the side of her head and kissed her cheek, sighing quietly.

“I’m sorry, my dear girl,” he whispered, smiling faintly. “I ought to know better.”

“My Obi-Wan,” she turned to look at him, noting he had the smallest smudge of chocolate in his beard. “You haven’t… I’m not upset.”

“But you are overwhelmed,” he smirked when she rubbed her thumb over the spot, unable to keep from closing his mouth over the digit to clean it for her. “I’ve done too much, too quickly.”

“I…” her face was already heating up and she knew it. “…I do not dislike it.”

“Yes, you mentioned you were _hot_.” His smile was a bit on the devious side, but still very gentle in comparison to what it’d been. “Even still, perhaps I should take it down just a little?”

“Please don’t,”

His brows nearly disappeared into his hairline. _Well_ , that hadn’t been what he expected. He supposed if she was all right with his deviant behavior, then he could continue. He may still take it down just a fraction out of the sheer fact that he’d felt himself starting to hit that point where he might actually startle her. He didn’t want to do that. Offering a smile and a nod, he leaned in and lured her into a deep kiss, giving the tiniest bite to her bottom lip when he pulled back.

“Very well, darling. If this is what you want, then we shall continue. Let’s get this mess cleaned up and we’ll finish our dessert, hm?”


	10. Here In My Arms

Iza was losing her damn mind. Once more, the air in the motel room had become ridiculously hot and hard to breathe as she lay sprawled on her back across the bed. Losing her tunic had done nothing to help. Not when Obi-Wan had gone and straddled her hips and covered her with his heavy heat. His breath smelled of the sweet chocolate, which he’d taken to painting across the skin of her neck before dragging his tongue over it until there were no traces of it left. He fed it to her from his fingertips sometimes, only to suck the taste from her tongue and leave her dizzy and breathless. She had never known one could use food in such a way. She would never look at sweets the same way again. She picked her head up when she felt his weight shifting, watching as he stuck a finger in the tub and held it above one of her breasts. Her eyes followed the sticky, thick syrup as it fell from the tip of his finger and drizzled across one of her nipples. He hummed quietly as he swirled the thread of chocolate in a messy pattern and Iza had no chance to even draw a breath before he leaned down and took it into his mouth.

She swore. _Loudly_. A word she’d picked up from Quinlan that she should not be using. But Iza’s body was so sensitive from all of his taunting that she did not know how else to react. It seemed to amuse him because she could see him struggling not to smile around the peak in his mouth and she felt the vibrations of a chuckle against her skin. _Wicked man_. He was a horribly wicked man. _Force_ , she adored him. She became aware that he was offering the chocolate stained fingertip to her. She took it. Sucked it. She was so damn hungry for the taste of his skin beneath the sweetness. His teeth grazed the sensitive tip between his lips before he pulled up with a low growl and began peppering hard kisses up to her neck. Iza felt him breathing heavily as he watched her and whined at the feel of teeth on her neck.

“Slowly,” he rasped, pushing his hips against her in a way that nudged the hard bulge at the front of his trousers into her belly. “Slowly, my darling,”

Iza obeyed, unsure why the light command made her body clench. When there was no more chocolate left on his skin, he withdrew his finger and traced it along her spit-slick bottom lip. His breathing was still harsh and she wondered what he was thinking. Looking over at him, she studied his face and the dazed look in his eye and something in her head seemed to _snap_ into place. _Oh_.

“Do not,” he murmured sounding as though he badly needed a drink of water. “Darling, do not,”

“Why not?” How did he even know?

“Because…” he swallowed thickly and rose up on his arms a little, relieving her chest of his weight. “Many reasons.”

“You can’t give me _one?_ ”

“You cannot even look at it directly,” Obi-Wan pursed his lips, dragging his hand through his hair before looking her over. He seemed to be mapping out where he wanted to mark her with the chocolate next. “What makes you think you’d be able to—”

“I want to _try_.”

He glanced up at her from where he’d parked himself near her hips, pausing mid-tug of her trousers. The look in his eyes was unreadable, but he appeared to be mulling something over silently. Grunting, he said nothing and stuck his finger in the chocolate again, busying himself with writing his name across her pelvis. Iza watched, torn between being irritated and overwhelmed with arousal, as he bowed his head and licked the letters away slowly. She was a whimpering, squirming mess by the time he’d finished, but she still held a hint of that determined look in her eye as he looked up at her. _Stubborn girl_. He sucked the chocolate from his finger this time and let out a deep sigh, rubbing at his cheek.

“Why the sudden interest?” Well, it was a fair question. Obi-Wan felt her squirm and watched the way Iza tilted her head in that damn innocent manner she always did when she was trying to goad him into something.

“I like the way you look at me,” she whispered, rolling her shoulder in a tiny shrug. “And… _clearly_ you enjoy it when I do it to your fingers. Can I not give you the same pleasures you give me, my Obi-Wan?”

“Darling, there is a difference between putting my fingers in your mouth and what you are asking to do.”

“ _I am aware_.”

Okay, he needed to stop assuming that she was not up to par on some things. That was a terrible fault of his. Just because she was still quite _new_ to these things did not mean she did not know about them. He had to remember that. Even still, he wasn’t hesitating because he thought her to be ignorant. He just wanted to be sure she was _ready_ and _comfortable_ with the idea. He supposed he could not argue if she claimed she was. He just had a very distinct feeling he would get his trousers off and she’d get that flustered look on her face and be unable to do more than just stare—which really wouldn’t bother him. He’d at least be prepared for that.

“I want to hear you tell me to do it,”

Now it was _his_ turn to be flustered. He sputtered out his next breath and almost crushed the little cup of chocolate he held, leaning over to set it on the table beside the bed so he wouldn’t do that. They would be sticky enough by the end of the night; he would not add to that by sleeping with chocolate covered bedsheets. Giving her a look, he tried really hard to ignore the way the ache in his pelvis became a deep _throb_. It didn’t work.

“You…” He wagged his finger at her and let out a weak, exasperated laugh. “You do not know what buttons you are pushing, my dear girl.”

“Are they the same ones you tell me not to push when I pull at your hair?”

“Close enough.” Shaking his head as if to try and clear it, Obi-Wan eyed her for a long moment. “Are you _sure?_ ”

“You have done nothing but focus on _me_ ,” Iza sat up on the bed and moved to scoot closer to him, leaning against his arm. “I do not wish to sound ungrateful, but I feel as though it is still very unfair to you.”

“And what have I told you about _fairness_ , darling?”

“You can put me in your mouth all you want but I can’t have a turn?” She gave him a look and propped her chin on his shoulder, frowning hard. “I cannot even have a chance to _try_ it and see if I like it, or if I’m even any good at it?”

“You really must stop talking like that,” he was fighting back the urge to smile like a lecher. It was difficult when she pressed her face against his neck and breathed a soft whine in his ear.

“You are meant to _teach_ me, my Obi-Wan.” He _hated_ what those words did to him. He was a _pig_. A filthy _pervert_. “Will I have to beg for this lesson?”

“ _Horrible girl_ ,” he turned and nudged her chin up, kissing her hard. “Who taught you to speak this way? Where is my sweet, innocent darling girl?”

“You do not know what buttons _you_ push,” Iza murmured in between kisses. “You make me crazy. I cannot help it.”

Huffing out a quiet growl, he rested his forehead against hers and shut his eyes. He supposed it couldn’t hurt to let her _try_. If it made her stop saying such filth to him, he most certainly would give her his blessing. Accepting the kisses she pressed to his lips, Obi-Wan groaned lowly and pulled back to look at her, stroking his thumb against the curve of her jaw.

“ _All right_ ,” he relented, still very hesitant about the whole thing. “But you must promise—”

“If I am uncomfortable, I will say so. _I know_.” Iza looked annoyed as she gave a light roll of her eyes and moved away from him to grab the little cup of chocolate he’d set aside. Curious, Obi-Wan gestured to it.

“And what is that for?”

“Am I not allowed?” She blinked, raising an eyebrow. “Forgive me, but I thought that was what this was for?”

Obi-Wan had to cover his mouth to hide the smile that spread across his lips. He didn’t want to tell her that it had _mostly_ been for what he’d already used it for. He hadn’t had any intention of putting it anywhere it didn’t need to go.

“You’re making that face,” Iza frowned. “I’ve said something stupid.”

“You have not,” he insisted, reaching to pull her close. Leaning in, he kissed the end of her nose and smiled warmly. “I simply did not expect you to want to use it.”

“We do not have to,” she shrugged. “I thought perhaps it would make it… fun.”

He did not know how to tell her she didn’t need _chocolate_ to make the act fun.

“You can keep it close if you like,” running his finger beneath her chin, Obi-Wan hummed quietly. “But I guarantee you will not need it.”

Iza looked at him a bit skeptically, but said nothing. She just took the next round of kisses he offered and gave the leg of his trousers an impatient tug. He chuckled at her, tutting softly and eyeing her for a long moment. She wondered what he might be thinking. She was willing to bet it had to do with whether or not he thought she was ready. She was. Well, she _thought_ she was. She wanted to _try_ it, anyway. He did so much to make her body feel delightful and no matter how much he argued with her, Iza felt like she didn’t do enough of the same. Moving away so he could find a better place to sit, she watched him lean up against the head of the bed and hesitate. He looked even more unsure than she felt. It was funny to see such an expression on his face, really. For Obi-Wan to be so anxious about something like this just seemed _strange_ to her. As she observed him from her spot while he sat there with his thumbs hooked in the waist of his trousers and that contemplative look on his handsome face, Iza felt the urge to try and comfort him.

Crawling up between his knees, she seemed to surprise him with the soft kiss she placed on his lips. Slow and deep and perhaps a bit too sweet for what was about to transpire, Iza did her best to soothe him and his worries. She ran tentative hands along his thighs and slid her fingers in alongside his thumbs, guiding him into easing his trousers off of his hips. When they’d collectively gotten them down far enough, she tugged them down the rest of the way for him and just spent a few minutes looking into his eyes and running her fingers through the fine hairs of his beard. It seemed to calm him, though she could still feel some hints of nervousness in the bond they shared. It was better than knowing he would be too worked up to enjoy himself, she supposed. Smiling at him, she gave another round of slow kisses before taking a page from his book and working her way down his neck. She scattered tinier kisses over his chest, letting her fingertips run along his sides and over his hips. She hadn’t looked yet. She knew that she’d likely lose some of her nerve if she did. She felt him brushing against her belly and her chest as she moved lower on his torso and heard him hiss softly above her. When she reached his abdomen, Iza planted firmer kisses here, remembering how it felt when he used his tongue and tentatively doing the same.

The soft sound he made assured her that he enjoyed it as much as she did. Unable to help herself, she smiled. She kissed her way across his pelvis the way he liked to do to her, feeling him twitch and shiver when her lips passed beneath his navel. She thought she heard him swear, but couldn’t be certain. Finally, she found the courage to look. At first, she couldn’t do it directly. But the longer she pressed kisses to the tops of his thighs and around his pelvis, the easier it seemed to get. It was hard to avoid when the damn thing was constantly in her peripherals, after all. She didn’t really mean to stare the way she did when she finally gave it an honest to goodness look. She’d just been trying to figure out how to go about _starting_.

“Darling,” Obi-Wan sounded shaky, which _really_ surprised her. “You do not—”

“Quiet,” she flicked her fingers at him in annoyance, then reached up and tentatively traced one of them down the length. The harsh breath he let out fanned out against her cheeks and she looked up briefly to find him staring with his jaw clenched. _Okay_. Good touch. She would keep that in mind. If he reacted this way to just a fingertip, then surely—

Iza gave no more thought as she leaned in and carefully touched her tongue against the column of flesh, slowly gliding all the way up to the tip. Above her, Obi-Wan made a guttural noise and his legs shifted on the bed on either side of her. When she looked up at him again, his blue eyes were sharp and focused on her with that fire she usually saw when she’d accidentally tug his hair too much. It took a lot of effort not to smile on her part. He was very clearly struggling not to make demands or physically do anything to guide her into showing her what he wanted. It was a test of his patience. She found herself wanting to break it.

“Are you all right?” She couldn’t help taunting him. The tone of her voice was too sweet, too innocent; he’d see right through it for sure. But he only nodded, some of that hard look melting away. The fire hadn’t dimmed, however. _Good_. Turning her attention back to what she was doing, Iza brought her hand up again and gave another soft brush of her fingers against the flesh. She ignored the heavy way he breathed, choosing to simply stroke in slow passes until she heard a hard _thud_ above her and found that he’d knocked his head back against the wall and was staring at the ceiling with his teeth clenched.

“Obi-Wan?”

“Mm?” He sounded even shakier than before and just a little on the agitated side.

“Am I doing it wrong?”

He laughed outright and covered his face with both hands, scrubbing his palms over it a few times before shaking his head. Looking down at her, he managed the softest smile he could with the wicked look that had settled in his features.

“ _No_ , darling.” Licking his lips, he hesitated before swallowing hard. “But you are a bit of a tease.”

“Is there a way you’d like me to do it?” She _had_ said she wanted him to tell her. Iza was fine with the idea of him letting her explore, but she would’ve much rather had a bit of direction. At least then she’d know she wasn’t torturing him. Obi-Wan drew in a deep breath above her and looked like he was mulling the question over before he shrugged and shook his head.

“Put your hand around it again,” he jerked his head at her and waited while she wrapped her fingers around him and looked up again expectantly. “Now—do as you were doing before, just put a bit more pressure behind it, darling.”

“Pressure?”

“ _Squeeze_ , my girl,”

She did. She nearly let go immediately from the way he growled at her, too. He’d leaned back against the wall again, chest heaving slightly. Iza almost asked him if she’d done it wrong but he was quick to reach out and cover her hand to show her exactly how he wanted her to move it. He murmured something unintelligible once she’d gotten the idea, letting his hand fall away and inadvertently pushing his hips up from the bed. Iza could not understand why it felt like such a treat to watch him fall apart like this. It was almost _fun_ to experiment with varying pressures as her hand moved along the length of him. She managed to draw some _very_ interesting sounds out of him that made the low ache in her pelvis burn wickedly. She liked it best when he whimpered, she found. There was a spot, she’d noticed, near the tip that seemed to make him whimper the most. When she was sure his eyes were closed, Iza leaned in and gave that spot a slow pass of her tongue.

He swore. He used the same word she’d used earlier in the evening and his hips pushed up in such a way that he’d nearly lifted them off the bed. He looked so startled when he stared down at her and she had to fight off the guilty look and the urge she had to smile. Feeling perhaps a bit more daring than usual, she tentatively dragged her tongue against the spot again and got the whimper she’d initially hoped for. He reached for her, tunneled his fingers into her hair, and cradled the back of her head. She’d all but stopped the motions of her hand, too focused on what she wanted to do next. She wouldn’t give him a chance to speak as she parted her lips and— _hesitantly_ —took a portion of him into her mouth. A heavy sound left his throat and the hand in her hair clenched tightly around the roots. He didn’t pull, nor did he urge her to do anything. He simply held her in place as he stared at her.

“Iza,” he sounded unsure, like he didn’t quite know what to do. After what felt like forever, he loosened his hold on her hair and exhaled. “ _Slowly_ ,”

Iza used the practice she’d had with his fingers as a guide, sucking in gentle pulls of her lips while he moaned low and cussed again above her. She became aware of the way he’d started moving his hips, carefully easing more of himself past her lips. He was gentle and mindful and didn’t push beyond a certain point, so she really didn’t mind much. This whole thing wasn’t terrible, honestly. Once she’d gotten comfortable enough, it was really no big deal. Well—perhaps not to _her_. It seemed to be a very big deal to Obi-Wan, judging by the loud noises he was making. She’d started using her tongue on that spot again and sucking just a fraction harder to see what might happen. _What happened_ was that he gripped her hair again and started giving quicker, measured lunges of his hips. His breathing was coming in harsher pants now and when she looked up, she could see a thin veil of sweat had settled across the skin of his chest. When their eyes met, another one of those violent growls left his throat and Iza worried she’d done something wrong.

“ _Darling_ ,” his other hand came down and he raked his fingers into her hair to get it out of her face entirely. _Oh_ —she knew that look now. He wore it when she had his fingers in her mouth. As much as she wanted to smile at him, she couldn’t. So she settled for letting out a soft groan. _Apparently_ , that had been the wrong thing to do. He suddenly stilled and held her in place, clenching his teeth and looking as though he was trying very hard to concentrate on anything that wasn’t the sight of her between his thighs with his flesh in her mouth. Confused, Iza knit her brows together and grunted questioningly, only to have him start to lift her off of him.

“What are you—”

“You must stop,” he sounded as though that were the _last_ thing he wanted to tell her. “I will not last if you continue with all that noise.”

“ _So?_ ”

“Iza,” he breathed her name out in a laugh. “My girl, surely you’ve noticed it takes a while for me to recover?”

“We are here all night,” she didn’t understand what he was getting at. “You were enjoying it.”

“Yes I was,” he nodded and flashed a rather goofy looking smile.

“Then let me finish.”

Obi-Wan looked almost conflicted now. Clearly he would be happy to allow her to continue, but the little matter of his recovery time seemed to be an issue for him. When he seemed to take too long in deciding, Iza poked her bottom lip out at him. He relented.

“ _All right_.” Loosening his hold on her, he clamped his bottom lip between his teeth as he watched her settle back in place. Iza didn’t immediately move to take him into her mouth again, choosing instead to work him slowly with her hand and give tiny brushes of the tip of her tongue to that little spot. She barely stopped herself from smiling when his thighs jumped and he let out a soft string of cuss words that she would _never_ have imagined were in his vocabulary. “Darling, for the love of the Force—”

She would not let him continue complaining. Slipping him past her lips, she returned to the lazy pulls, occasionally squeezing her fingers around him. His hands found her hair again, gripped it. It didn’t take long before he was rolling his hips again, murmuring soft commands under his breath that she couldn’t quite hear. Looking up expectantly, Iza raised an eyebrow. If he wanted something, he needed to speak up.

“Harder, darling,” his cheeks went a little pink as he said it, but that wild look remained fixed on his face. “ _Suck harder._ ”

Iza felt her breathing pick up as the ache between her thighs got _worse_ at the command. She did as she was told, keeping her eyes level with his as she sucked in harder pulls. At first, she felt a slight sense of embarrassment at the almost lewd sounds that followed. But when she saw how his face began to twist with pleasure and his eyes gave the _slightest_ roll before they slid shut, that embarrassment flew off into oblivion. His breathing was getting even harder, interspersed with soft snarls and low moans that sounded suspiciously like her name. The pace of his hips quickened and she did her best to keep up until he—once again—curled her hair around his fingers and stilled her, pushing forward and letting out his loudest growl yet as his release spilled out of him. _Immediately_ , Iza had no idea what to do. It wasn’t as though she could _ask_.

“Hold on…” he was panting and looked like he was struggling to keep himself from sagging against the wall as he turned to grab the glass of water beside the bed. “Here,”

Iza stared at him for a moment, looked at the glass, and took it from him. Obi-Wan was in the middle of scrubbing his palms down his face when he realized that Iza had started _drinking_ from the glass, rather than used it to spit into. Well, he supposed that was one way to do it. Watching her from between his fingers as she drained it down to nothing, he waited while she sat there for a moment with a funny look on her face. And then she was getting up and going into the other room, presumably for more water. Hopefully it wasn’t to be sick. He felt a little bad that he hadn’t had enough time to warn her. When she came back with more water and one of the berries leftover from their dessert, he had to cover his mouth to hide the smile that wanted to spread across his lips.

“Are you all right?” He asked after he was sure he wasn’t going to break out into any sort of amused expression.

“Mhm,” she grunted, nodding and chewing the fruit deliberately.

“I’m so sorry.”

Iza looked at him for a minute, and then shrugged.

“Is that not what’s supposed to happen?” Unless she’d missed something, she was _pretty sure_ that was how it worked. Judging by the stupid way he laughed, she’d said something _dumb_. Frowning, the brunette took another bite of the berry and chased it with the water.

“My sweet girl,” reaching out, Obi-Wan pulled her against his chest and kissed her shoulder. “Forgive me. I’m quite… _euphoric_.” Smiling, he nuzzled at the side of her neck and hummed contentedly in her ear. “I only apologize because I did not warn you.”

“I knew what would happen,” she glanced at him with that annoyed look that let him know he making his assumptions again. “I just did not know what to _do_.”

“You were not meant to swallow it.”

“ _I **wasn’t**?_”

“It will not hurt you,” he assured her hurriedly, shaking his head. “I just meant that I gave you the glass so you could… spit into it.”

“I will remember that for next time,” finishing off the water in the glass, Iza leaned over to set it on the table. Settling back against him, she tipped her head and eyed him before affectionately skimming her cheek against his. “Did you enjoy it, at least?”

“Is this a real question you’re asking me, darling?” he chuckled lowly and turned to bury his face in her neck, planting firm kisses and stealing soft nips to her skin. He smiled when she tilted her head for him, trailing his lips and teeth all the way up to her ear where he grinned and gave a satisfied sounding groan. “I _did_. I enjoyed it very much. And you?”

“I liked watching you fall apart.”

“ _Horrible girl_.” He let out a rush of breath and gently bit the shell of her ear. “I demand you tell me who taught you to speak this way.”

“What will you do if I refuse?” Iza nestled back against his chest with a look that suggested she was trying not to smile. Obi-Wan nearly shook his head at her. He could sense where this was going. What sort of demon had he awakened?

“I have ways of making you talk, darling.”

“Will you behave as beastly as you did earlier?” Turning her head to look at him, she raised an eyebrow and leaned in to lick away a bit of chocolate staining his beard. The action made his features harden and that fire reignite in his eyes as an almost devilish noise rumbled deep in his chest. Iza continued to look the picture of innocence as she dropped her head to his shoulder and ran her finger beneath his chin. “Because I’d like for you to.”

“ _Iza_ ,” there was warning in his tone, but it was light. “These are not games you ought to be playing, my girl,”

“What games?” She tipped her head, her thin braid sliding across her cheek. He had to tuck it away. It put such a strange sense of shame in his belly to see it now. Iza didn’t seem fazed. “You were not shy about your behavior earlier, Obi-Wan. Is it wrong for me to want you to continue it?”

“I do not wish to frighten you, Iza.”

“And I’ve already told you that you did nothing of the sort.”

“I do not know what sort of _beastly_ things you have in mind,” Obi-Wan rubbed the pad of his thumb against her cheek and dipped his head to press kisses to her face. “Give me an idea to work with, darling.”

“I would like you to…” Iza wasn’t hesitating as much as she was trying to figure out how to word what she wanted to say. “…you do not have to be _unkind_ , but…”

“Are you asking for me to manhandle you, darling?” The smile was evident in his voice, though he’d made his way to her neck and was glad she couldn’t see the way he grinned. “While I admit it’s a bit of an unexpected request at this point, it is at least something I can do.”

“You made me curious,” dragging her nails up the back of his neck she buried her fingers into his hair and gave a gentle tug. “The way you spoke and the way you looked at me…”

“It made you _hot_ , yes?” The edges of his teeth grazed over a mark he’d made previously and he hummed when she shivered against him. Pushing away from the wall, he shifted her in his arms and settled her down against the bed, covering her and sinking his teeth into the mark. “I suppose I can understand,” he bit deeper into the spot, drawing a soft whine from her. “I will say did not expect you to enjoy such a thing, my darling.”

“And why is that?”

“You’re just so _sweet_ ,” Obi-Wan dragged his fingers down along her front, giving hard squeezes to any bit of soft flesh he could grasp. The startled way Iza gasped in response made him grin against her neck. “I simply cannot picture you wanting to partake in such devious behavior.”

“You make me want to do many wicked things, my Obi-Wan,” Iza could not keep from clutching at his shoulders as his hands grasped and kneaded her hips. “I said before that you were in my dreams like this… I’m not so sweet there, either.”

He growled low against her throat at the mere thought of what sort of devilish things they got up to in her dreams. If he really wanted to, he could search her mind and see just what those things were. But Obi-Wan would not pry. He would let her have those secrets for herself. Picking his head up to look at her, he flashed that wild smile at her from before and lightly began brushing the tips of his fingers along the surface of her belly with a thoughtful hum.

“You should not tell me these things,” he leaned down and nipped her chin. “It is much too early for me to show you how beastly I can be, my dear.”

Squirming on the bed, Iza whined and tried to shift around to encourage him to move his touch lower. When he simply planted his palm flat against her belly and pinned her to the bed, she let out a frustrated huff and pouted at him.

“ _Obi-Wan_ ,”

“Tell me,” he whispered, his free hand moving to part her thighs so he could sit between them and keep them open. The hand on her abdomen lifted, fingers going back to the slow passes. “I want to hear you say it, Iza.”

The brunette felt her face go hot and knew she must be turning scarlet. She had to remind herself that this was what she wanted. She wanted his deviant behavior. She wanted him to talk to her in that raspy tone that didn’t sound quite like him. She _wanted_ him to look at her with that fire in his eyes. As her breathing picked up even more, she tried to gather the courage to speak and tipped her hips up lightly.

“Touch me,” her voice was so soft and tiny she wasn’t even sure she’d said anything. Obi-Wan certainly behaved as though she hadn’t said anything.

“I’m sorry?” He tilted his head and traced circles around her navel. “What was that?”

She swallowed hard and tried again, louder.

“ _Touch me_.”

“I am touching you, darling,” his kriffing smile was going to be the end of her. Frustrated, Iza shifted her hips and tipped them further, but he acted as though she were merely getting comfortable. She didn’t know what to do. She wasn’t sure of what to say. She had an _idea_ , but she wasn’t sure she’d be able to get the words out. Hesitating, she reached a hand out and pushed at his wrist to move his fingers further down to the slick flesh between her thighs.

“Here,” her voice had gone soft again and she searched his face nervously like she worried he might not continue.

“ _Oh_.” He made a face like he had finally realized what she meant and rubbed the pads of his fingers against her slowly. “You should have said so, darling.”

Iza gave him an a half frustrated, half flustered look and gasped sharply when he focused solely on the sensitive little nub at the top. He started with a soft touch and gradually added more pressure until she couldn’t keep from rocking her hips up. He held her gaze the whole time, a determined look set in his handsome features. When Iza began whimpering and her thighs started to shake, he slowed again and dipped his fingers lower, sinking the tip of one in just a fraction before bringing it back up to continue the torment.

“Too much?” He asked, his voice much rougher than before.

She didn’t know how to answer. She’d stuffed her knuckles into her mouth at some point to smother the sounds she’d started making and there was now a very painful set of teeth marks denting them. Her body burned with the sharp sensation but she wasn’t sure she wanted him to stop. The ache she felt certainly didn’t want him to stop.

“Iza?” Obi-Wan sounded a little more like himself and it stirred her from her daze. After a moment, she shook her head.

“I’m fine,” she didn’t know if that was the right answer, but there was nothing _wrong_ with her. She was just overwhelmed.

“Would you like something else, darling?”

Iza must’ve looked confused because he suddenly dropped his head forward with a quiet laugh. When he looked at her again, it was with an adoring gaze that quickly shifted back into the devious one. Leaning over, he kissed one of her thighs and lightly dragged the pad of his tongue against the skin. She shouted. She didn’t mean to. But she hadn’t expected it and it coincided with such a perfect sweep of his fingers that she hadn’t been able to help it. He chuckled at her and rested his chin against her knee, looking as patient as he could with that expression on his face. Her belly clenched. That ache worsened. She wasn’t sure if she was expected to _say_ it. Still biting down on her knuckles, she gave a tiny nod. He didn’t budge.

_Kriff the stars._

“Please?”

“Please _what?_ ”

The brunette whined and pressed her shoulders into the mattress in frustration. Another shout escaped her lips when he moved his fingers away and she looked up to stare at him. Obi-Wan looked the picture of nonchalance. She could’ve kicked him. And he’d called _her_ a tease. They stared at one another in silence for a long while and, for a moment, she thought perhaps he’d decided to just give her what she wanted when he shifted closer and began to bow his head. When his mouth touched her belly instead, Iza dropped her head back and let out an exasperated sound.

“ _Tell me_ ,” he murmured against her skin, tongue dipping lightly into her navel. “You will get nothing if you continue your little fit, darling.”

“I do not know how.” She confessed, barely resisting the urge to just shove his head where she wanted it like she’d done with his hand. “Obi-Wan,”

“Of course you do,” his mouth was moving upward towards her breasts and it made her even more frustrated. “Just _think_ , my dear. How do you ask in your dreams?” _Okay_ —so maybe he’d pried _a little bit_.

Iza hesitated. There was a big, _big_ difference to the way she behaved in her dreams to the way she behaved now. Sure—she’d wanted this. She wanted to play with this side of him. But it did not change the fact that she still had somewhat of a hard time voicing some of these things. The brush of his facial hair against her chest made her whine again and she reached to run her fingers through his hair, leveling her gaze with his when he looked up at her. Her teeth dented her bottom lip when she drew it into her mouth and she tilted her head at him, feeling the heavy gust of breath against her skin before she heard the low sound that followed. He pursed his lips as though trying to stop a smile, then bowed his head and kissed the space between her breasts.

“ _Okay_ ,” he murmured, hands running up along her sides. “I will allow it this once.”

“I’m sorry,” Iza didn’t mean to sound so meek. It earned her a soft smattering of kisses across her chest and a gentle look.

“I expect direction in trade,” the gentle look did not last long as it gave way to his lecherous smile once more. “You tell me how you want it. Deal?”

Her face went red again, but Iza could only nod. It was somewhat of a fair trade, after all. Much easier to do than tell him what she wanted him to do to her, anyhow. She watched as he kissed his way back down her torso, gasping when he paused to bite rather sharply at her hips. The sensation was not unpleasant in the slightest, though it was a little startling at first. He moved further, kissed the tops of her thighs and nipped at them. He waited until she was squirming almost uncontrollably on the bed before he finally leaned in and gave a slow, soft drag of his tongue against her flesh. Iza’s hips jerked and she whimpered, parting her knees further. When he didn’t follow it up with a second pass, she almost swore at him.

“Slow,” _Force_ , she was going to pass out from blushing so hard. “A… a little…”

“Yes?”

“You needn’t be so delicate.” _There._ She said it. She still felt like her heart was going to burst through her chest and her face might permanently change to crimson, but at least she’d said it.

“Delicate, darling?” _This **bastard**._

“ _Obi-Wan!_ ” Iza dragged her hands into her hair and pushed her feet against the bed. “ _Harder._ I want you to do it harder than that.”

“Was that so difficult, darling?” If she weren’t so preoccupied with hiding her face from him, she’d find him with the cheekiest damn grin on his lips. He knew he ought to be a bit kinder towards her. She was still quite new to all of it, after all. But he couldn’t help that he enjoyed how flustered she got. Settling in with a quiet _hum_ , he leaned in again and gave another slow drag, adding a fair amount of pressure behind the pass and getting a heavy moan in return. “Like this?”

“ _Yes,_ ” Iza didn’t know what to do with her hands, suddenly. They hovered over his head and trembled lightly as she stared up at the ceiling and held her breath until the next stroke of his tongue. Her hips twisted. The sound she made was almost like a strangled sob. He did something with the tip of his tongue that sent a sharp chill through her and made her back bow in a deep arc off the bed. She lifted her feet; set them back down. Her thighs tensed when he pressed closer and closed his mouth over her. He worked her with those firm passes of his tongue until she was breathing in such shallow pants that she was beginning to see spots in front of her eyes. She was absolutely unprepared when he shifted closer with a growl and began to _suck_. Iza felt her body clench and shudder as a wicked hot sensation flooded through her and she let out another one of those helpless sobs.

He didn’t stop. Even as she shivered and fought to keep her legs from closing against his head, he continued on as though nothing had happened at all. The sensation was so sharp and intense that Iza could do little else but try and pull her hips back from his mouth. He followed. He did that thing with the tip of his tongue again. Stroked in slow passes that struck nerves so sensitive that they made her entire body feel as though it were being electro-shocked. Her second release was more intense than the first and Iza couldn’t take it. She called to him, pleaded with him, went absolutely blind from the pleasure. She was almost sure he hadn’t heard her—hadn’t noticed that he’d stopped—until she felt the heavy press of his chest against hers and felt the soothing stroke of his fingers in her hair. She could not stop shaking as she grabbed for his shoulders and buried her face against one of them, feeling him press kisses to the top of her head. He murmured to her but she had no idea what he was saying. She felt his hard length against her hip and worried suddenly that he might take her too soon. Her fingers moved to grasp the back of his neck and she tilted her head back to look at him, chest heaving as she tried to look at him through the haze in her eyes.

“Please wait,” she whimpered, knowing she probably sounded pitiful. “I can’t… _please wait_ …”

“ _Shh_ , my darling,” pushing the hair back from her sweaty face, Obi-Wan kissed her forehead and shook his head. “Relax.”

“ _Obi-Wan_ ,” Iza pressed her face against his and clung tighter to him. She didn’t understand why this was so intense. He had given her release like this before, but nothing that had left her feeling so shattered. It made her shiver just to have him run his fingers down the side of her neck in an attempt to soothe her. She felt him sit up and gather her against his chest, gasped and leaned away from the touch when he tried to rub a comforting hand down her back. _Too sensitive_. Every last nerve ending seemed wide awake and she didn’t know why.

“I am so sorry,” he kissed the side of her face as gingerly as possible and simply held her to him. “I did not think it would have this effect on you, my darling,”

What the _hell_ was he talking about? Surely he couldn’t be talking about what he’d done with his mouth. Iza couldn’t find enough sense to ask. She only grunted at him in a questioning manner, giving him a look. Obi-Wan looked dreadfully guilty as he gazed back at her and pushed her braid off of her face to tuck it out of sight once again.

“I tapped into our bond using the Force. I did not know it would make you so sensitive.”

Iza stared at him. At first, she wasn’t sure if she ought to be angry. And then she _was_ angry, but only for half of a second. Her mind soon wandered to _how_ he’d done it. After flicking through about twelve more emotions, she settled on confusion.

“You… can do that?” Her throat hurt from yelling out so much. Absently, she hoped the motel owner wouldn’t get any complaints from the adjoining rooms.

“Darling,” he gave a weak laugh and smiled faintly. “You can do a lot of things with the Force that they do not teach at the Temple.”

She gave him another look before she grunted again and rested her head on his shoulder. At least her breathing was going back to normal. Her body was still shivering every so often but her skin didn’t seem quite so sensitive anymore. After a while—she wasn’t sure how long—she nuzzled her face into his neck and huffed quietly.

“I’m sorry I stopped you,”

“Pardon?” He tipped his head to try and look at her. “Stopped me from what, Iza?”

The brunette didn’t move her head and instead, shifted on his lap to brush her hip against him. _Oh_. Now he got it. Letting out a snort, he shook his head and kissed the bridge of her nose.

“You silly girl,” Obi-Wan rolled his eyes lightly, mostly glad she couldn’t see it. “I would not have just _taken_ you. Surely you think better of me than that?”

“I do,” she nodded. “I just… you did not stop and I don’t know where my mind went.”

“Iza, my darling girl,” bringing a hand up to cup her chin, Obi-Wan nudged her into lifting her head so he could look at her properly. “If I had known it was too much, I would have stopped.”

“I couldn’t make you.” Iza shrugged. “I could hardly think.”

“Perhaps I got carried away,” he made a face, snorting out a laugh. “This is why I say you are not ready for these things.”

“Is that not for me to decide?”

“Well, _yes_ ,” Obi-Wan heaved a sigh and ran a hand through his hair. “But you must also trust me when I say that you need to take some of it slowly. I do not wish to overwhelm or frighten you, darling. This is meant to be a place of bliss, not fear.”

“I did not mind too terribly,” Iza was going to try to be brave about it. He would probably call her out on it, but she didn’t care. “I will get used to it.”

“We will be taking things much slower from now on.”

“Obi-Wan—”

“ _Iza_ ,” he set his jaw and sighed heavily through his nose, leaning in to press his forehead to hers. “I understand, darling. But _you_ must understand that I do not have any expectations of you. I will be happy to let you try new things, but we must do them slowly.”

“Does that mean you will no longer look at me or speak the way you did tonight?” She pouted lightly and nudged her nose against his cheek. “Because I liked those things.”

“I can make exceptions on occasion,” stealing a soft kiss, Obi-Wan palmed her jaw and swept the pad of his thumb against her cheek. “But there will be no more wickedness of this nature until you are certain you’re ready for it.”

Iza sighed quietly and seemed to continue pouting, even as she leaned into the touch of his hand. She supposed she could understand. While she hadn’t been _uncomfortable_ , she had certainly been a bit flustered when it had been her turn to speak the things she wanted from him. She _had_ , however _,_ enjoyed listening to him tell _her_ what he liked and the way he’d bossed her around a bit. Perhaps they could work something out?

“I see that face, darling,” Obi-Wan chuckled quietly and stole another kiss from her bottom lip, noting she was so distracted that she pushed her lips against his in return a good five seconds afterward. “You’re _thinking_. What is it?”

“You will think it’s strange,” she said finally, playing with the ends of his beard. This made him raise an eyebrow.

“So certain of that, are you?” Tilting his head, he smiled expectantly. “Why don’t you tell me and let me decide for myself what I think of it?”

Iza hesitated and ducked her chin. She’d never seen the little freckle on his chest before. And she’d never really noticed the fact that the light bit of hair on his chest was a few shades darker than the hair on his head. There was another freckle a little further down on his abdomen, just off to the side from his navel. Absently, she reached down and brushed her finger against it, watching his muscles bunch lightly beneath his skin at the touch.

“What are you doing?” She could hear the amusement in his voice.

“Nothing,” slowly, she brought her eyes back up to meet his and hoped her face wasn’t turning that hideous red color. “…I quite liked how you told me what to do.”

His brow went up and he made a face like he hadn’t quite expected that to come out of her mouth. He also didn’t seem to be terribly surprised by it, either. Making a soft noise, Obi-Wan leaned in and pressed his lips to the side of her head, trailing them down to her ear where he gave a nip to the outer edge and followed it with a low laugh.

“ _I’ve noticed._ ”

She shivered. She didn’t mean to. It seemed to just be a reflex whenever he murmured in her ear like that. Another kiss was given to her ear and then he was moving his mouth down her neck, occasionally letting his teeth skim across the surface of her love bite mottled skin. It took no time at all before she was half panting again, leaning into his chest and encouraging his kisses when she dropped her head to the side and gave him access to as much of her neck as he wanted. He’d even begun nibbling her jaw now, which tickled a little bit. She was mid-giggle when she felt him skim a palm across her belly and pull her in tight and the familiar press of hot, hard flesh rubbing against her hip drew her attention. She was only a _little_ shy as she reached a hand down and closed her fingers around him, giving a few smooth strokes until he buried his face against her neck and growled.

“ _Iza_ ,” he tried his best not to jerk his hips into the touch. “My girl, what are you—”

“I think we’ve both recovered enough,” it wasn’t sexy to say, but everything else in her head sounded obscene. “ _Please?_ ”

He laughed quietly and muttered something about an _early grave_ before picking his head up again and nodding. Eyeing her for a moment, he leaned in and kissed the corner of her mouth, giving her just a _hint_ of that devilish smile he’d treated her to all night.

“Would you like to try something new, my darling?” The hand on her belly rubbed its way to her hip and squeezed it. Iza let out a soft whimper and nodded. She didn’t know what she was agreeing to, but she didn’t care. If he was going to offer up a chance to try something, she would take it. His smile widened and he kissed her again, giving her a nudge. “Turn around. Like you do when I show you the lights.”

Iza’s cheeks colored, but she nodded anyway. Giving him another squeezing stroke before releasing him, she carefully turned in his lap and let out a soft noise when he lifted her by the hips so he could stretch his legs out in front of him. She heard him quietly instruct her to straddle him and felt a little awkward as she was pulled back against his chest.

“You’re all right, darling.” He whispered, pressing soft little butterfly kisses along her neck and shoulders. He slid his hands up and splayed them over her ribs. “Relax.”

She moaned softly as his fingers began to play across her skin, drawing intricate patterns up and down her body. Giving herself up to his sweet attention, she lolled her head to the side and rested it on his shoulder, leaning back into his embrace. One hand slid up to cup the back of his head, her fingers playing in the soft hair at the nape of his neck.

“You drive me crazy.” She breathed in a tone of voice she didn’t recognize, closing her eyes to savor the sensation of his hands on her. One hand cupped a shapely breast, the other slid down to the aching notch between her legs. He ran his fingers through the light patch of curls, stroking over her flesh as his thumb and finger pinched and rolled a nipple. She groaned as she began rubbing against him, shifting her rear against the hard sex she could feel behind her. He shifted slightly to draw his legs up a bit and Iza gasped when his hands fell away. One landed at her hip, the other moving to position him just right. She felt him give her a nudge downward and began to settle on him.

“Slowly, darling,” his chest lightly heaved against her back; his voice had taken on that rough, raspy tone again. Iza only nodded and quietly obeyed. The hand he had on her hip became an arm anchored across her belly as he guided her down onto his lap, pausing when she would gasp too sharply or if her thighs flinched against his. When he had fully taken her, Iza wasn’t entirely sure she could move. She lay back on his chest with her head settled against his, breathing in soft pants while he peppered kisses along her shoulder. He moved them up to her cheek and nuzzled lightly at the curve of her jaw. “Is it too much?”

She shook her head, heaving out a breath. Pressing her lips together, she clumsily tried to raise up on her knees—still _very_ unsure of how she was meant to do this—and let out a startled gasp when Obi-Wan’s hands grasped her hips. She felt him moving beneath her while he manipulated the motions of her hips, guiding her into a slow rhythm before he set his teeth against the side of her neck.

“Like this, darling,” that heavy rasp was thicker than before. “Nice and slow like this.”

Iza nodded and twisted her hips the way he’d shown her, holding her hands out at her sides to keep herself balanced. After a few moments, he laced his fingers between hers to give her a bit more stability and picked up his pace just a fraction. She could not believe how much more intense this was. She wasn’t sure if it was because she couldn’t see his face or because it was a new position, but Iza could already feel her body beginning to burn deliciously. She couldn’t stay quiet. She really did her best not to swear, but there was no stopping the loud noises of bliss that made their way out of her mouth. At first, she was a little embarrassed. She didn’t know if she wanted anyone else to hear her. But when Obi-Wan pushed his hips up into her in such a way that it made her entire body shudder, she decided she didn’t care anymore. She also stopped caring whether or not she might be too heavy for him. She’d silently been worried about it the moment he’d lowered her onto his lap like this. It was one thing for them to meditate in this position; another entirely to make love in it. Petite she might be, but she’d heard the way he grunted whenever he was made to pick her up at times. All of that went flying into oblivion when she heard the sounds he was making behind her.

“Come here,” a hand slipped up the middle of her torso again and pulled her back against his chest and Iza gave a tiny cry at the change in sensation. Her back arched slightly as she dropped her head to his shoulder and she did her best to keep up with the rough kiss he pressed to her lips. She felt fingers sliding up along the column of her throat and had the fleeting thought of whether he’d wrap them around her neck. It was an odd thought to have and it left her a little startled. The feeling did not last, as he pressed his hips up into her and growled deeply into her mouth. His other hand pawed at her hip, pushing and pulling to guide her into a quicker pace to match his. She could not help the way she cried out and bowed away from his chest, lolling her head on his shoulder and reaching to grasp for anything her fingers could touch. She settled for her own chest, hearing him make a beastly noise behind her.

His teeth found her shoulder and bit sharply, eliciting another cry she could not control. He did his best to follow it with sweet kisses but they felt out of place with the way they were behaving. His hands were grasping any part of her they could reach now; her waist, her chest, her thighs. Twice now he’d given little taps of his hand against her backside that weren’t very sharp, but still made her whimper. Iza wondered if this was the side of himself he’d warned her against. He certainly was not the gentle, tender Obi-Wan that she was used to. He also was not terribly vicious as she’d been led to believe. His teeth were a bit meaner and his nails were certainly going to leave marks behind on her skin, but he still seemed to be very mindful even as he grabbed at her and rocked into her like he couldn’t get enough. She enjoyed this side of him. She enjoyed it _very_ much. She would have to remember to tell him so.

Iza noticed that he’d begun shifting his legs around before she heard soft swearing behind her. An arm went around her belly again and she shouted a little as she was lifted with him still inside of her. He pitched her forward on the bed as carefully as he could, pulled her hips back, and covered her from behind. The position felt incredibly lewd, but she didn’t hate it. His palms dragged up along her sides and over her arms, encouraging her to bring them up in front of her as he pressed his chest against her shoulders and pushed her further into the mattress.

“Stay like this for me,” if Iza didn’t know his body the way she did, she would never have known it was Obi-Wan behind her anymore. He must’ve sensed her moment of uncertainty because he began pressing hard kisses over the back of her neck and between her shoulders, bringing them up to her ear. “ _It’s all right, darling_ ,”

She nodded, somewhat soothed by the light change in his tone. She knew this man. She trusted him. He would stop if she asked him to. She didn’t _want_ him to, but the option was there. The first heavy roll of his hips in the new position made a desperate sound leave her. Iza dropped her head forward onto her outstretched arms and clenched her fingers in the blanket beneath them. _Holy stars_. She wondered if he was using their bond again. Maybe he was just _that_ good. He’d braced most of his weight in his shoulders and was dragging his fingers over her belly as he snarled and Iza cried out again when he lifted off of her and grabbed her thighs, pulling them further apart and hauling her even closer to him. She wouldn’t last. Especially not when he covered her back again and buried his face in between her shoulders, the scratch of his facial hair sending wonderful chills down her spine. It took a moment for her to realize he was murmuring against her skin, saying _vulgar_ things about the way her body felt. As if responding, her body tightened around him and he pressed his face harder against her and said something that embarrassed and aroused her enough to nearly kick her over the edge into climax.

“ _Obi-Wan_ ,” she wanted so badly to tell him the same things. To tell him how amazing he felt inside her and how the things he was doing were making her feel. Swallowing a soft moan as her toes curled, she did it. She just started speaking and found she couldn’t stop. She praised him for how he pleased her, told him exactly how much she enjoyed the feeling of being full of him. She heard a sort of flabbergasted sound behind her and felt him press his mouth against her neck.

“ _Filthy girl_ ,” it was followed by one of those light taps to her backside and Iza just about lost it. “Such a vulgar tongue you have.”

Iza might’ve told him something cheeky about what she was capable of doing with her _vulgar tongue_ , but he’d gone and pressed into her so deeply that she completely lost her ability to _think_. Dropping her head forward with a heavy cry, she felt the hot pressure that had built in her belly grow even hotter and then burst in a flood of liquid fire. She yelled for him, felt him grab her hands and clutch them as he pushed into her twice as hard and half hollered out his release alongside her. He dropped onto her without warning, but Iza didn’t mind much. He was heavy and made it a little hard to breathe, but it was almost comforting—in a way—to have him settled against her like that. Both of them were heaving as though they’d just finished an extended training session, soaked in sweat and tingling viciously from head to toe. Iza was aware of the press of lips along her cheek and turned to meet him with a tired kiss. When she opened her eyes, she found him gazing at her, half in a daze. He gave her a _goofy_ looking smile and she couldn’t help smiling back.

“I love you,” she whispered, giving a nudge of her nose against his. She felt him take a deep breath, his chest pressing hard against her back. Strangely, he wasn’t tensing up. His smile seemed to widen and his eyes took on a more adoring gaze before he nudged back.

“I love _you_ , darling.”

~*~*~*~

“You’re a mess,” Obi-Wan sighed quietly as he ran a fingertip down the side of Iza’s neck, silently counting the love bites he’d left behind. Iza, who was nestled quite comfortably against his chest as they soaked in the motel tub, tilted her head back to look at him and smiled.

“You’ve got a collection too, you know,” reaching up, she nudged a finger against a particularly dark one on his throat and giggled when he groaned and turned away from the touch.

“I can feel that, yes,” snorting, he shook his head at her and kissed the top of her head. “I do hope you’ve got that crystal.”

“I think so.” She made a face like she was trying to remember. “If not, I’ve got bacta.”

Obi-Wan made a disgusted face and wound his arms around her shoulders.

“It would almost be worth the risk going back looking like this to not use that foul stuff.”

“You are the one who deemed me his _careless girl_.” Iza tried not to smirk as she felt around in the tub for the soap. “I am trying to be more mindful and take care of the wounds before they become scars.”

“Darling, you can use the meditation healing for superficial wounds. You needn’t slather yourself in bacta for them.”

“I would rather save my energy for something more productive,” that smirk could no longer be suppressed and Iza pressed her face against his arms so she could hide it. In a light tone, she added, “Like Jar’Kai practice, perhaps.”

“Mm,” Obi-Wan was not convinced. “You know I can feel it when you think filthy thoughts, right?”

“You _cannot_.”

“I _can_.” He kissed her ear and snickered quietly. “My darling, what have I done to you?”

“What do you mean?” Tipping her head back again, Iza raised an eyebrow.

“You were such an innocent soul,” he ran his fingertip under her chin and smiled fondly. “I fear I may have corrupted you.”

“…am I not allowed to be sweet and also enjoy sex, Obi-Wan?”

“I…” _Well_. “I suppose when you put it like that…”

“Should you not be glad that I enjoy it with you?” She’d found the soap and was busy lathering it between her fingers. After a moment or so, she turned in his lap and started rubbing it into his beard, grinning at the way he scrunched his nose in displeasure. “You have _chocolate_ all over.”

“Water works just fine,” he tried not to open his mouth too much, not wanting to get a mouthful of the suds. “And I _am_ glad you enjoy it with me, darling. I suppose I was just not prepared for you to behave this way so quickly.”

“Obi-Wan,” dipping her hands beneath the water to rinse them, she began bringing up palmfuls to then rinse his beard. “Need I remind you that you have been showing me the lights for months now? I know you still have mixed feelings about _my_ feelings on it, but… I read the texts. It would not have worked if I was not willing to let it.”

He had to wait until she’d completely rinsed his face before he could speak. In the meantime, he simply watched her. The inescapable urge to tuck away her damn Padawan braid was getting stronger, but there was no way to hide it when her hair was wet like this. Part of him wished she’d never put beads in the thing. But it was _her_ hair and he would not dictate how she ought to wear it. When she’d gotten him clean of the soap and kissed him, he smiled and sighed again.

“I have also kept to the simple techniques, my sweet girl,” he picked the soap up next, rubbing it between his palms to work up a thick lather. “You have no idea the kind of things _Runi_ meditation bonding can do.”

“I want to learn,” she swept her hair away from her shoulder when he began running his soapy hands over her skin. “And your simple techniques were basically _foreplay_ , my Obi-Wan. We have been toeing the boundaries for months. Even before you started being sweeter with me.”

“I do not want you to think I was luring you, Iza,”

“I don’t think that,” she gave him a strange look and tilted her head, studying him. “Obi-Wan, if anything, I feel as though _I_ lured you. I tried my hardest to keep my feelings to myself since the day you came to Ragoon VI and I just… I could not. I cannot explain it. Every day I spent with you, the more I loved you. Even when you hurt me, I loved you.” Shrugging, she turned her gaze to the water and chewed her tongue. “He told me to smile.”

“What?” Confused, Obi-Wan tilted his head to try and look at her.

“Master Quin. We talked that night. He said to put my pain into my lessons like Master Windu taught me, and to smile when I looked at you. Because…” she hesitated like she wasn’t sure she was supposed to say it. “…because that was what _you_ would teach me.”

He was going to _kill_ Quinlan Vos. That explained so much about her behavior after that incident. Why she’d smiled at him when she’d broken her nose with the staff. Why he could still sense such a horrible ache in his chest whenever she’d look at him while she wore that kriffing smile. Quinlan had interfered in matters he should not have and he could’ve very well damaged this girl in a way she should not have been. Nobody needed to use _his_ coping mechanisms. This was not a lesson he saw fit to teach her. If she felt sadness when she looked at him, he wanted her to feel it—not cover it up. _He was going to **kill** Quinlan Vos._

“Darling,” soapy hands came up to cup the underside of her jaw, turning her head so he could level and hold her gaze. “What did I tell you about listening to Quinlan and his _advice?_ ”

“He is not my teacher,” she said quietly, leaning heavily into his palm. “You are.”

“Correct,” Obi-Wan hated that he had to behave this way with her now, but this had set a fire in his chest that he could not control. “You do not listen to him unless I have instructed you to.”

“Yes Master,”

He bit his tongue, exhaling hard through his nose. _Not right now_. Not while they were naked in the damned tub.

“Iza,” he leaned down and rested his forehead to hers. “I do not mean to confuse you. I’m sorry.”

“I am not confused,” she kissed him gently and leaned into him. “I know the difference between _Obi-Wan_ and my master.”

“At least one of us does,” he laughed shortly and shut his eyes. “In any case, if Quinlan approaches you with more of his _wisdom_ , I would appreciate it if you ignored it.”

“I shall,” she nodded and brushed her mouth against his chin. “May I ask you something?”

“Of course, my girl,”

“Do you feel as though you were lured?”

He leaned back to look at her curiously, eyeing her as he mulled the question over. After a few moments, he shook his head and dropped his hands to cup them beneath the water so he could rinse the soap from her skin.

“I do not, no,” a faint smile played on his lips and he leaned over to kiss her temple. “I believe I felt the same things for you as you did me. I just took a little longer to recognize them for what they were.”

“Perhaps that is not such a terrible thing.” Iza smiled at him and lifted a hand to give his beard a playful tug. Obi-Wan made a face and then smiled, stealing a soft kiss with a hum.

“Perhaps not,”

“I truly do love you,” Iza said softly, smoothing her fingers across his cheek. “There is nothing I would not do for you, my Obi-Wan,”

His smile widened and warmed with affection, a hand coming up to thread into her hair. Again, he rested his forehead to hers and gently nuzzled his nose over the end of hers.

“I love you deeply as well, my girl,” the tug to her hair was gentle, deliberate. “I too, would do anything for you.”

“Will you get me out of this tub?” Iza snickered and kissed him softly. “I would like to be sweet with you somewhere not quite so wet.”

“Yes, darling,” he laughed, returning the kiss with a nod. “I will grant you that.”


	11. I Can't Sleep Until I Feel Your Touch

She was going to pass out. As she focused her attention on the combat droid in front of her, Iza could feel the buzz in the back of her skull that begged her to get some sleep. _No sleep. Only distractions_. The droid lifted its training blaster and she crouched, lightsabers held at the ready. She took a breath—held it— _charged_. The bolts were bright as they bounced off of the blades of her sabers, but her eyes remained focused on the bright red ocular sensors of the droid. Swipe right, left, left, right, up, dodge to the right, slash with the left and—

The heavy clank of the droid’s head hitting the floor of the training arena was followed by the equally heavy sound of its body following suit. Iza stood with her arms crossed, chest lightly heaving as she stared blankly over the glow of the blue blades in front of her. She powered off the lightsabers and dropped her arms to her sides, her head falling back on her shoulders as her eyes slid shut for a few moments to rest them. Five seconds. That was all she needed to recharge. She could signal for Quinlan to send the next one out after that. Her sight was twice as blurry as before when she opened her eyes again and she blinked a few times, shaking her head as though it might help to clear it. Wandering back to the center of the arena, she swept her hand back to push the droid out of the way and then gave a wave of her fingers to signal for the next one. She needed sleep. It had been at least three days now. Obi-Wan had been gone for over a week and she’d stopped sleeping once the smell of him had vanished from the tunic he’d left her with. _Where the hell was the droid?_

“Master Quin?” Her voice cracked as she rubbed a hand over her sweaty cheek, looking around. He was here. She could feel his signature quite clearly. “Did we run out?”

“I think you’ve had enough for one day, little one,” Quinlan stepped out from where he’d been watching her, a concerned expression set deep in his features.

“One more,” she waved her hand again and shook her head. If she stopped now, she would have to rest. If she rested, she might fall asleep. Sleeping meant more nightmares. _She would not sleep without Obi-Wan_. “Just give me one more.”

“You are dismissed.”

“ _Master Quinlan_ ,” Iza gave him a pleading look, her tired eyes barely able to focus on him. Pinching her mouth, she swallowed thickly and tried again. “One more?”

“That will not work on me, little one,” Quinlan smirked faintly and waved his finger at her. “Your master might fall for that sad look, but—”

“I don’t want to stop. I’m getting better.” She bounced in place and fidgeted with the end of her braid. She had been told a hundred times in the last week to stop playing with it, but she couldn’t stop. She was so anxious without Obi-Wan around. “I’m getting _faster_.”

“You’re getting sloppy,” Quinlan said pointedly, reaching out to bat her hand away from her hair. “You know you’re not supposed to wreck them like that.”

“Give it to Skywalker,” waving her hand at the decapitated droid, Iza huffed. “He can fix it. He’s fixed half of the others in the storage unit.”

“I said _no_.”

“ _Fine_ ,” turning the lightsabers over, Iza turned the power down and changed the height settings before linking them together. “I do not need you for this.”

“Excuse me?”

Iza didn’t answer him, powering the saberstaff and giving it a few quick whips around her hand. It was almost automatic for her to twitch her head out of the way now. She had stayed up so late for the last week in the dojo practicing with it. She needed to fill her time _somehow_. There was a tug to the weapon and she tightened her grip on it, shooting the older Jedi a hard look when she realized he was attempting to call her saberstaff to him. Powering it off, she held it behind her protectively.

“Don’t you have something better to do?” She snapped, taking a step away from him. “You said I was dismissed. That means you’re done with me.”

“When was the last time you had sleep, little one?” Quinlan was not going to take her attitude for very long, but he had a strong feeling he knew why she was acting up. He could kill Obi-Wan for leaving him with a lovesick woman like this.

“Last night,” it was easy to lie to him. They held no bond and he couldn’t read her signature the same way Obi-Wan could. She could tell him the sky was purple and he wouldn’t know it was a fib. Going over to the canteen she’d filled with caf, she took a long drink and thought she felt her heart shiver in protest. She really should’ve had some water instead.

“You look as though you haven’t slept in a week.”

“I did not realize you’d become my master,” Iza shot him a damn filthy look over her shoulder before picking up the rest of her belongings. If she could not use the training arena, she would just go to the dojo. Quinlan would likely follow, but at least she could blame any _accidental_ whacking on the close quarters. Hanging the saberstaff from her belt, she started to leave when she felt the tug of it being pulled off its catch. Dropping everything in her hands, she twisted and rounded on Quinlan, who held the weapon in his hand quite casually for someone with such a dark look on his face. “ _Give it back_ ,”

“You will get it back when you’ve had rest.”

“It does not belong to you,” Iza advanced on him, tired eyes becoming watery and almost dazed. “ _Give it back, Quinlan_.”

He held it out of her reach, studying her. He wasn’t sure if she was stupid enough to attack him. Never mind the fact that he greatly overpowered her, this was a Jedi Temple. There were Masters around every corner who would not take kindly to her behavior at all. She put herself at a lot of risk just by rushing at him like that. Thankfully, she only pulled at his arm and stretched herself onto her toes to try and get the saberstaff back. He didn’t know how he’d handle her if she became physically violent with him.

“ _Quinlan!_ ”

There was so much strain in her voice. Either she was not fighting as hard enough for it as she ought to be, or there was something else going on with this girl. She felt _exhausted_. He could smell the caf on her and knew that she’d lied about the last time she’d slept. He’d known the minute she’d stepped into the training arena that she wasn’t in any shape for practice. But trying to tell her this was impossible. Leave it to Obi to find the most stubborn girl of them all to be a Padawan. He wondered what else she’d become to his dear friend. They certainly had been spending more time together than was necessary for a Master and Padawan. It was none of his business and he knew it but he did not want to see anything terrible happen to either of them. A grunt left his chest when Iza wrapped her hands around his bicep and began using her body weight to try and pull his arm down. _Very_ stubborn girl. When he fought back against her attempt and kept his arm held high, Iza let out a harsh sob and pushed him, covering her face with her hands.

“It is not _yours!_ ” She sounded like a child. She looked it, too. “He will be upset if I do not learn how to use it! Give it _back!_ ”

Quinlan gave a soft tilt of his head. That didn’t seem right. Obi wasn’t the kind of man to get upset about such a thing. This was a guilt tactic and he knew it.

“What is going on in here?”

“ _Master Qui-Gon!_ ” Iza drew in a heavy breath and gestured at Quinlan. “He will not return my saberstaff to me! I must practice. I must practice before Master Obi-Wan comes back.”

Qui-Gon looked between the distraught young woman and the Kiffar, raising a greying brow before he came further into the room. Anakin crept in behind him, looking curious. The Jedi Master looked nonchalant as he took note of the dismantled combat droid and the things Iza had carelessly dropped to the floor. His blue-gray eyes wandered to the girl, and then to Quinlan. Holding his hand out, he gave an expectant look and waited for the younger man to hand it over. Quinlan knew better than to argue with Qui-Gon. Giving Iza a look, he shook his head and passed the saberstaff off.

“You look very tired, my dear,” Qui-Gon appeared to weigh the weapon in his hand, turning it over and studying the two different sabers carefully. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine, Master Qui-Gon,” she nodded, watching him carefully. Her fingers had gone back to fidgeting with her braid as she blinked hard to clear her vision. She really wished they would give the saberstaff back. It was making her nervous that no one had handed it to her yet.

“Hm,” letting out a sigh, Qui-Gon held it out to her with a soft smile, though he did not immediately let go when she took hold of it. “Would you join me for tea, Padawan Tacor?”

“Tea?” Iza just wanted to go to the dojo and practice. It would give her time to calm down and pass more time. The more time that passed, the sooner Obi-Wan would return. _Then_ she could sleep.

“I believe you could use a break from caf.” There was a knowing sparkle in his eye and she suddenly felt very ashamed of herself. He made a face, and then twisted to look behind him. “ _Anakin_ ,”

“It needs repairs, Master,” the boy had picked up the combat droid and was looking over the damage made to it. Qui-Gon gave a slow shake of his head and appeared to sigh.

“If it will keep you busy,” he waved his hand, turning back to Iza. He still had not let go of the saberstaff. “I insist you join us.”

If it would get him to let go, then she’d likely shave her damn head. Nodding, she tried not to blink too hard when her eyes shifted out of focus again. Qui-Gon released his end of the saberstaff and watched the way she clutched it to her chest. _Curious_. Nevertheless, he smiled warmly and gestured to the belongings she had dropped.

“Please, gather your things and come with us,” glancing back at Anakin, he shook his head again. “If you are to bring that with you, put it in a crate this time.”

“Yes Master,” Anakin nodded and rushed to grab one from the closet.

Turning to Quinlan, who had been watching silently, Qui-Gon gave a slight nod of his head. The younger Jedi eyed him for a long moment before returning it and turning to go. Pausing near the door, he glanced back at Iza and breathed a deep sigh.

“We will resume tomorrow, Padawan. _Get some rest._ ”

She didn’t say anything. She wouldn’t even look at him. Iza waiting until Quinlan had left before she went and gathered the things she’d thrown aside, watching as Anakin approached with a hover-crate carrying the broken droid. The two exchanged a quiet glance before he gave a weak smile and began to lead the way out. She hadn’t seen him since the fight at the night market. She wondered if he knew what had happened after he and his master had left. No—she didn’t really want him to know. She didn’t want his pity. Looking up when she felt a hand between her shoulders, Iza looked at Master Qui-Gon like she was startled to see him there and got a funny look in return before he began to guide her out. The trio walked in silence through the Temple all the way up to the Master’s quarters. Iza could not help but give a forlorn look as they passed Obi-Wan’s door. For a moment, she reached into their bond with the hope that she might find him there. He was not. She could not feel him anywhere on the planet. It put a deep ache in her chest that spread to her belly and made her drop her eyes to the floor. She missed him terribly.

“Here we are,” Qui-Gon urged her inside of the room—much larger than the one Obi-Wan occupied, she noticed—and gestured for her to take up one of the cushions on the floor. Setting her things aside, Iza did as instructed and sat down, noticing that Anakin had his own little area in the corner where he could sit and tinker. How kind of Master Qui-Gon to give him such a space. She wondered if Obi-Wan had been given a space like that where he could read when he was younger. Her place in Obi-Wan’s room was not on the floor, nor was it anywhere anyone ought to see. If anyone knew she took up part of his bedspace, there would be a lot of problems in the Temple.

 _Tired_. She was very tired. Iza couldn’t seem to keep her head still as she sat on the cushion and tried to keep her eyes open. She should’ve been practicing. It was the only thing that kept her awake. The hot snap of a weak lightsaber blade against her skin could keep her awake for hours. _Damn_ Master Quin for having stalled her so much.

“For you,” Once again, Master Qui-Gon pulled her back to the present and jarred her so horribly that she seemed to have forgotten where she was. Looking to the mug he held out to her and then up to his face, she took it with a soft smile and a nod of thanks. It was warm and comforting and it smelled delightful. It made her miss the tea she used to make on Ragoon VI. Bitter as it was, she’d found a sense of comfort in it. When the Jedi Master had joined her on the cushion just across from her, she realized he’d been watching her the entire time. Bringing the mug to her lips for a quick sip, she couldn’t quite figure out something to say. She didn’t have to. “You must not do this to yourself, young one.”

“What?” Her eyes burned so much. Every slow blink was a reminder of the sleep she had deprived herself of and the extensive ones she took to clear her eyes only made it worse.

“Obi-Wan would not want you to drive yourself into the ground like this,” gesturing, Qui-Gon took a sip from his own mug. “You have not slept in… _three_ days, if my count is correct.”

_How the hell did he know that?_

“Master,” she didn’t want to drop the mug. She set it aside and put her hands in her lap. “I am just keeping myself busy.”

“You are steering yourself in a very dark direction.”

Iza wondered where he’d gotten the rug they sat on. It didn’t look like anything that was sold in the street shops on Coruscant. The textile was too intricate, too _personal_. This had been made for him.

“You and your master are so very similar in nature. It’s disturbing.” Qui-Gon shook his head and tutted, taking a long drink of his tea.

“What does that mean?” Sure, Iza had noticed some similarities between herself and Obi-Wan. She thought those things made it easier for them to work as well as they did. They also had a lot of traits that seemed to clash, but those things didn’t hinder their love for one another at all.

“You both lose sleep over the silliest things.” He smiled faintly, those knowing blue-gray eyes staying fixed on her face. “You behave as though he will not return. He behaved as though his heart would never heal. So ruled by your feelings, the two of you.”

Iza felt a sting of fear in her chest. Did he know? If he still shared any semblance of a bond with Obi-Wan, it was possible. He might not know the extent of things, but he might have an idea. Obi-Wan had said that Master Qui-Gon had _formed his own opinions on the matter_. He’d never clarified what that meant. Perhaps she should have asked him to. As she stared at the carpet, she noticed that it seemed to tell a story in the pattern. It wasn’t one she could clearly read, especially not when the colors were all starting to blur together into one big mess. She wanted to get up and leave. She couldn’t move. Her body was so heavy with exhaustion that she could hardly keep her head up anymore. She could feel her face doing that stupid twitchy thing as she tried to pinch her mouth to stop her jaw from wobbling. Her eyes squinted hard like she was really trying to figure out the story in the textile. She brushed her fingers along the woven thread and felt her throat starting to close.

“Drink the tea, Padawan.” Master Qui-Gon sounded so nonchalant, as though he wasn’t witnessing her attempt to stem a full breakdown in front of him and his Padawan. “You will feel better.”

“I need…” she reached forward like she was trying to pull herself up. “I must… I have to…”

“You will sit,” he waved his hand and a gentle push of Force energy nudged her back down. “You have nowhere you need to be.”

“My saberstaff practice…”

“It can wait.” Once more, Qui-Gon gestured to the cup beside Iza. She let out a heavy breath and picked it up, holding it in her hands and staring down into the dark liquid. Her mind wandered back to a night out on the river when she and Obi-Wan had sipped the ragwater tea—as he’d dubbed it—from the single mug that she’d had at the camp. There’d been a sense of innocence in the act, then. They had simply been made to share. She could remember how warm it’d been that evening as they sat on the bank and looked out at the stars as they began to pop up in the sky. He had let her lean on his shoulder without fussing about it. When the tea was gone, they’d settled back on the sand to ease the ache in their necks. He’d still allowed her to pillow her head on his shoulder. They’d fallen asleep for a while and she remembered waking up in the cave with his robe draped over her. That was when she’d known she truly loved him. It wasn’t just a silly childhood crush. Her feelings were honest and true and it had been the beginning of her downfall.

“Iza?”

Anakin’s voice startled her so much she splashed tea all down her front. Master Qui-Gon reached across the space between them and took the mug from her, a thoughtful look on his face. Anakin sat beside her, concern set deep in his boyish features. He shifted his gaze from her over to his master and he frowned deeply before getting up to get a cloth for her. Iza sat with her hands trembling in her lap and her head full of fog. Her face was wet. Her eyes burned. _She was so tired_.

“Anakin,” Master Qui-Gon’s voice was softer now, as though he had been lightly shaken by the state of the young woman in front of him. “Please take Padawan Tacor to her room.”

“Yes Master,” nodding, Anakin handed Iza the towel and waited while she clumsily dried herself off before he helped her to her feet. He gathered her things for her and guided her out of the room. When the door shut behind them, he lowered his head and spoke quietly, “Would you like to go to his room?”

Iza looked up at him in wonder. This boy who had been so irritating the last time she’d seen him, so argumentative and uncontrollable—he was offering to bring her to Obi-Wan’s quarters against the wishes of his master. Did he know the kind of trouble he could get into? Never mind that—what had possessed him to even make the offer? Had she said something without realizing it? She certainly hoped not. Her vision blurred with tears again and she opened her mouth to try and answer, but she closed it and shook her head. Obi-Wan would not like it if she went into his bedroom without permission. It did not matter how much she missed him. That was his private space and she could not enter it without asking.

“I do not think that would be a good idea,” she murmured. After a moment, she offered a tiny smile of gratitude. “But thank you.”

He studied her for a long moment before he nodded and gently nudged her down towards the dormitories. He took her through a way she’d never gone before and she noticed that there were not as many guards this way. He must’ve taken this path a lot when he snuck out of the Temple. He stirred her from her thoughts when he asked her where her room was and it took her a while before she could gather enough sense to answer. She could barely remember where she was. _Tired_. He steered her down the corridor and to the door that led her into her room, helping her inside when she did nothing but stare at the closed door for a solid minute.

“You should listen to Master Qui-Gon,” he said as he helped her to sit on her bed, setting her things down on the chair in front of her desk. “You should get rest.”

“I do not want to.” Even as she said it, Iza’s eyelids began to droop heavily.

“Why not?”

She shook her head and looked around like she didn’t quite recognize where she was. Rubbing her hands over her face, she looked back at Anakin and frowned.

“Did he put something in the tea?”

“No.” The younger boy shook his head and shrugged. “I watched him make it. It’s the same tea he makes every day.”

“I feel funny.”

“You need to sleep.” He said pointedly, crouching in front of her.

“What are you doing?” Iza felt him tugging at her feet and nearly pushed him back. She didn’t care how polite he was being, she still didn’t know him very well and she would not stand for him behaving poorly.

“Taking your shoes off,” Anakin made a face at her and set her boots aside as he got one off, and then the other. “Just lay down.”

“I will not.”

“I do not see why Master Kenobi puts up with you.” Propping his hands on his slim hips, the younger boy shook his head and snorted. “You are very disagreeable.”

“You’re a delinquent.” Iza muttered, crawling back on her bed to put some space between them. “I might be disagreeable but at least I do not _steal_.”

“I don’t steal.” Folding his arms over his chest, Anakin frowned. “I always return the landspeeders when I’m done with them. _You’re_ the one who completely destroyed one.”

“We found the owner,” she was just going to settle down on her pillow for a moment. Her body ached from all of the saberstaff practice. “We paid them for the damages.”

“At least I do not pitch myself off of walkways for silly things like _crystals_.”

Iza jerked back to awareness to stare at him. His blue eyes were not as angry as his tone, but she still did not like the way he was looking at her. Frowning, she rolled over onto her side so her back faced him and reached beneath her pillow for the tunic Obi-Wan had left behind for her.

“Get out.”

“Iza,” he sounded like he regretted what he’d said. _Good_.

“ _Leave_ , Anakin.”

He didn’t say anything, but Iza heard a heavy sigh and the sound of the door opening and closing behind him. When she was sure he was gone, she pulled the tunic out from beneath the pillow and buried her face in it. It did almost nothing to stifle the sobs that shook her body, but there was just enough of a hint of Obi-Wan’s scent left on it to soothe her. She did not know how long she lay there sobbing into the tunic, or just when she fell asleep. But once she did, she was out and for the first time in a long while, it was a dreamless sleep.

~*~*~*~

Two days. She’d slept for a whole two days. Quinlan had made Aayla check on her to make sure she hadn’t gone and overexerted herself or accidentally injured herself. When his apprentice reported back that the girl had been fast asleep in a set of tea-stained robes and would not rouse even when she turned the lights on, he figured it best to just leave her. Whatever Master Qui-Gon had said to her must’ve helped. He hoped it’d helped. Or perhaps it had just put her in such a state of distress that she’d gone and thrown herself into a mini-coma. He didn’t know. As long as the girl got some form of rest, he didn’t care. She sought him out on the third day, looking not-quite rested but better than she’d looked before. At first, she didn’t seem to want to bring her eyes up from the floor. And then she was spewing so many apologies at once that he could hardly keep up with them. It did not matter how much he insisted that he was not cross with her, Iza just _would not stop_. This girl was in severe need of being set back into balance and he was pretty certain there was only one person who would be able to do it. Unfortunately, that person had not returned yet. He was due back soon—there had not been a solid time frame given as not to make Iza antsy—but Quinlan worried that the Padawan might start up her unhealthy sleeping pattern again if left alone without him for much longer.

They were in the middle of combat practice when Iza suddenly stopped in the middle of what she’d been doing. She looked around the room as though searching for something and powered down her lightsabers. Quinlan had been about to ask her what the hell she thought she was doing when she bolted from the room. Iza knew she wasn’t supposed to run in the Temple without a reason. _She had one_. She stumbled over her own two feet as she rocketed towards the front entrance, dodging a group of younglings on their way to the garden for afternoon meditation. Once outside, she headed straight for the hangar, heart pounding so hard that the beat seemed to thrum all throughout her body. She could see a cloaked figure coming out of one of the doors, nodding at the guards. They picked their head up and looked around before settling on her. The smile was familiar, as were the eyes, but the face was not. Iza began to slow as she approached, taking in the appearance of the man before her. It was indeed her Obi-Wan, but he looked _different_. His beard was nowhere to be found and he’d cut off his beautiful hair. He looked so strange to her, like it wasn’t the right person at all.

“Darling?” It was his voice. This was him. She could feel it in the Force that this was him. _But why…?_

“What did you do?” She didn’t mean to sound so sad about it. She was confused and a little bit startled by his appearance. She couldn’t help it.

“What do you— _oh_ ,” rubbing a hand against his face he let out a quiet laugh and shrugged lightly. “I only shaved, my girl.”

“Your hair,” Iza gestured and got a soft, confused look in return.

“I needed a cut,”

“No you did not.” They had talked about how much she liked his hair long. He had even said he was beginning to enjoy it now that it had gotten out of its awkward phase. Something was not right here.

“Iza,” laughing a little, he took a step forward and reached to take her hands. “My dear, it’s only hair. It will grow back.”

“You do not look like _you_.” He smelled funny. Like a heavy floral perfume. Something she would never wear. Her stomach began to ache and she could feel her breathing starting to quicken. “ _Obi-Wan?_ ”

He wished they were not out in the open like this. He could feel how upset and confused she suddenly was. The way she said his name like that put a cold spike through his chest and he wanted so badly to hold her and reassure her that nothing was amiss. Giving her hands a light tug, he began to lead her away from the Temple so they would not be caught by prying eyes. He was a little surprised when she hesitated, like she didn’t want to go. Turning, he found her staring down at his wrist with a pained expression on her face. _Kriff the stars_. He’d forgotten to put the bracelet back on.

“Darling—”

“You took it off,” she looked so betrayed when she brought her eyes back up to meet his.

“I had to. I could not wear it during the assignment.” He wanted to explain, but not here. He wished she wouldn’t look at him like that. “My girl, it is not what you think.”

“You _stink_.” Iza yanked her hand free from his and took a step back from him. “I can see _blonde hair_ on your cloak. _My hair is not blonde!_ ”

“Iza,” he put his hands up as if to tell her to keep her voice down and she made a rude gesture with hers. _Well_ , she certainly needed to stop hanging out with Quinlan. Again, he reached out and took her hand with the intent of dragging her off the property. She went along this time but he could feel how upset she was getting. He understood how it looked. He likely would have been just as upset if he were in her shoes. When he felt they’d gotten far enough away, he turned to her and cupped her face in his hands, leaning in to try and kiss her. She refused, turning her whole head away from him. “ _Darling_ ,”

“Do not _darling_ me!” Iza grabbed the front of his robes and pulled at him. “You shaved and cut your hair! You smell like high-end flower _vomit_ and you’re covered in hair that does not belong to me!”

“Iza—”

“ _You took my bracelet off!_ ” She pushed him then, taking a few steps back and bringing her hand to her mouth. He could feel the nausea in his belly like it was his own. Perhaps some of it was. Most of it was hers. The blistering anger was definitely not his. “What have you done?”

“ _Nothing!_ ” He didn’t know how to prove to her that it was the truth. Surely she could feel it? He would not lie to her about such a thing—he would not _do_ such a thing. “My _love_ , I would never—I only took the bracelet off because I _had_ to.”

“And your appearance? Was that something you _had_ to do?”

“For the job? _Yes_.”

“What sort of job did you take, Master Kenobi?” Oh—he did _not_ like that bitter tone. “Jedi Arm Candy for a rich whore?”

“ _Padawan Tacor_ ,” if she was going to be nasty, then so would he. She had no right to question him this way, nor any reason to say such a rude thing. He had done nothing but miss her the entire time he was gone and this was the last thing he’d expected upon his arrival home. “What has gotten into you?”

“I did not _sleep_ the entire time you were gone!” Iza grit her teeth and choked on her next intake of breath. “I could do nothing but lightsaber training to keep my mind occupied. I did nothing but _suffer_ without you, and you come home to me like _this?_ ”

“Darling, it was a _job_. I promise you that I have done nothing egregious.”

“Where is the bracelet, Obi-Wan?” She was not going to be able to stop herself from crying if he did not produce it and prove that it still existed. When he just stared at her like he couldn’t understand why she was behaving like this, she stomped her foot like a child and pounded her fists against the sides of her thighs. “ ** _WHERE_** _?!_ ”

“Here,” he went to the pouch at his belt, fishing through it with a startled look on his face. Pulling it free, he held it up. “It’s here, my love. I have it.”

She stared at it like she wasn’t sure it was the same trinket she’d given him before. It was. Her head was just so messy that she couldn’t recognize it right away. Looking from the bracelet back up to him, Iza felt her jaw wobble as a hard breath rushed out of her.

“What sort of job, Obi-Wan?” She was going to drop on the spot. She could feel it. “What sort of job would make you do this?”

Obi-Wan did not know what he was supposed to tell her. She had been pretty on the money with the _Jedi Arm Candy_ guess. However, the woman had been an old friend— _acquaintance_ —and perhaps the job had not been much of a job at all. He had played the role of a partial bodyguard, partial boy toy—but he’d done _nothing_ wrong. Even when it was clear that the other half of the job seemed quite keen on the idea, he’d refused. He would not tell her why. He just told her he was not interested and left it at that.

“Darling, please listen to me,” he said slowly, trying to keep steady eye contact. “I was nothing but faithful to you. I only removed the bracelet for appearances’ sake. I understand how it looks. But I _promise_ , my darling girl, I did not do anything with the woman I was working for.”

“I have to get back to combat practice,” Iza said dully. Obi-Wan did not know how he’d missed the shimmer bleeding from her eyes. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen that happen. Reaching into the Force around her produced nothing but static and it put such a sense of panic in him that he almost retched right there on the pavement. When she started to turn to go, he grabbed her arm and held her back, getting nothing but a glassy, numb look in return.

“ _Iza_ ,” he palmed her face and tried to keep his breathing from becoming too erratic. “My girl, do not do this. Do not hide from me.”

“You’re hurting me,” the younger woman blinked and sent twin lines of tears streaking down her cheeks. Still, that dull look remained in her eyes. He wanted to shake her, yell at her, plead with her not to behave this way. It was a misunderstanding. There was no reason for her to punish him like this. Did he have to take her to Mandalore and sit her in front of the woman in question for confirmation? Because he would. He would do just that if it meant she would just _stop_ looking at him like he’d stolen the stars from her eyes. But Obi-Wan could only ease up the grip he had on her arm and accept it when she pulled away from him.

“I love you,” he said softly, watching the way her face screwed. It made him sick. Those words should not make her feel pain.

“Do you?” She asked in a tiny voice. Gesturing to the bracelet, she smiled bitterly and started to take a few steps back. “Because the man I love would not have taken that off. _For anyone_.”

“ _Iza!_ ”

She put her hands up as if to restrain him, continuing to back up until she eventually turned and jogged back up towards the Temple. Obi-Wan was left standing with a heavy feeling of sickness in his belly and such a sharp ache in his chest that he was almost certain he was dying. His heart was giving out in his ribcage and he was going to keel over and die right here on the pavement. _What had he done?_ Looking to the bracelet pinched between his fingers, he wondered faintly how such a silly trinket could cause so much fuss. He knew what the symbolism meant to Iza and it meant a great deal to him as well, especially now. But he had not thought it would be such a problem for him to take it off. He should have just insisted that he couldn’t remove it. It would have been fine tucked beneath the sleeves of the fancy shirts he’d been made to wear, after all. No one would have noticed. But he’d allowed himself to be talked into removing it for the sake of looking more _professional_. Well, he wouldn’t make that kriffing mistake again.

Dragging his free hand through his hair, he blew out a heavy breath and looked for somewhere to sit. He was damn dizzy and worried he might actually fall over. Once he’d parked himself against the concrete barrier, he set his wrist in his lap and set about putting the damn bracelet back on. It was not easy to do with one hand. It was especially not easy to do with his non-dominant hand.

“Want some help?”

Quinlan’s voice almost had him toppling over the other side of the barrier, and he stared over at his friend with a startled look. The Kiffar regarded him with a gentle expression— _sympathetic_ —and gestured to the bracelet. After a moment, Obi-Wan nodded and held his arm out to the other man. He felt silly doing it but he wanted it back in place where it belonged. He’d ask Master Yoda to help him at this point.

“I see why she’s so upset,” Quinlan’s laugh was quiet, humorless. “You smell like vormur.”

“Did she tattle on me?” Obi-Wan mumbled, watching the careful way Quinlan knotted the bracelet.

“She could hardly breathe when she saw me. I dismissed her.” Shaking his head, the other Jedi gave the bracelet a pat and brought his eyes up to meet Obi-Wan’s. “I figured I’d give you a fighting chance to tell me why she’s hysterical.”

“I didn’t _do_ anything,” Obi-Wan shrugged and twisted the bracelet around his wrist to situate the knot in a better spot. “She believes that I was—” he paused, realizing that Quinlan was not exactly privy to what had been going on between himself and his Padawan.

“She thinks you slept with someone else?”

“How…?”

“Obi,” Quinlan folded his arms and leaned against the barrier. “It might not be obvious to anyone else in the Temple, but it’s very obvious to me. _I_ also spent three and a half months watching the two of you skirt around one another and pretend that you _didn’t_ have feelings for each other.”

“I guess that’s fair.”

“I’ve also never seen a woman so determined _not_ to sleep in her entire life because she is terrified to wake up to bad news.” Scoffing, Quinlan shook his head. “I fear that if Master Qui-Gon had not interfered, she would have lost herself.”

“What do you mean _interfered?_ ” Obi-Wan shot a concerned look at his friend, brows knitting together tightly.

“He made her _tea_.”

“Oh for the love of—” scrubbing his hands over his face, Obi-Wan cussed quietly and huffed. He knew he should be a little more grateful that his former master had managed to get Iza to sleep. He just wished he’d done something other than _drug_ her. It was the same method he’d used back when _he_ was still a Padawan and refused to sleep. He would brew his favorite tea and slip sleeping powder into it before serving it to him. He hoped she hadn’t been knocked out long. Obi-Wan could recall a time he’d been out for almost half a week because of his master’s carelessness with the stuff.

“She’s very unbalanced, Obi,” Quinlan’s tone took on a more serious note, pulling his attention back. “I had her training with droids this week and she did not _deflect_ as she was instructed. She destroyed them. She was very argumentative and, while I admit that perhaps I should not have attempted to confiscate the saberstaff, I feel she was ready to become physical if I did not return it to her.”

“That makes both of us,” a wry smile lifted the corner of Obi-Wan’s lips and he heaved a sigh. “I may not be asked back to Mandalore for the things I said to Satine last night.”

“I thought I recognized that perfume.”

“It is _not_ what you think,” the shorter man gave an insistent look and got a playful smile in return. “I’m serious, Quinlan. I would not do that to Iza. I took the job as a favor and that is all.”

“Did you change your appearance as a favor, too?” The Kiffar gave him a scrutinizing look, raising a brow. “I seem to recall that Satine preferred you without your beard.”

Obi-Wan’s shoulders sagged and he shut his eyes, raking his fingers through his hair.

“I was meant to look like her inamorato. She wanted me to look the part. It would not have appeared natural if I did not shave or cut my hair.”

“You and your big words,” Quinlan scrunched his nose. “If you want to impress me, buy me a whiskey. Your vocabulary will not get me into your bed, Kenobi.”

Obi-Wan laughed outright, the sound loud and near hysterical. Covering his face as it began to dissolve into heavy breathing that gave way to hot tears he huffed out a harsh breath and ducked his head.

“What do I do, Quin?” He asked, staring down at the toes of his boots. “She loathes me.”

“She does not,” slapping a hand between Obi-Wan’s shoulders, Quinlan sighed. “She needs her time to be upset. You know how she works.”

“This is different. She was so betrayed by the fact that I took the bracelet off.” Shaking his head, Obi-Wan shut his eyes. “I did not mean to hurt her.”

“She will come to you,” giving a soothing rub to his friend’s back before he patted it, Quinlan pushed away from the barrier. “I know how strongly that girl feels for you, Obi. She will not throw that away over a silly bracelet.”

“It’s not the… it’s not the blasted bracelet, Quin,”

“I _know_ what it is, Obi. And believe me when I tell you that she is not going to let go of you that easily.” Fixing his friend with a look, the other man shook his head. “She is bonded to you. The Force practically dropped her onto you. She is _yours_ , my dear friend. Let her have her time to be upset. She will return to you.”

“What am I meant to do until then?” Obi-Wan scoffed, using the sleeve of his robe to dry his eyes. “It isn’t like I can get drunk.”

Giving a look like he was thinking it over, Quinlan shrugged and grinned.

“Bet you a hundred credits I can still kick your ass in a duel.”

“I bet you a hundred credits that you absolutely _cannot_.”

~*~*~*~

Iza didn’t know what she was doing here. She didn’t know why she’d left the Temple or why she’d worn the dress she’d bought with the intention of wearing around Obi-Wan. Getting to Uscru had not been easy since she’d had to sneak her way out of the Temple in her poncho and walk quite a ways in order to hail a taxi. But it was better than attempting to ride the stupid speeder bike. She still couldn’t do it without Obi-Wan’s help and she, quite frankly, still hated the kriffing thing. It was just better this way. The Outlander was not what she’d expected it to be, either. She hadn’t quite known _what_ to expect, but a giant room full of people looking to score either drugs, money for their gambling habits, or a _good time_ had not been it. She wondered why Anakin had wanted to come here. He was fourteen. She was _eighteen_ and was regretting her decision. The only real pull the place had was that they had alcohol and she wanted to try drowning her hurt in some of it. The first shot had been disgusting. Something blue that packed a bitter punch and burned all the way down. The second was red and equally fiery, though the flavor was not quite so strong. She finally found a home with some reasonably sweet liquor that she couldn’t pronounce the name of. She bought the bottle and settled for a booth in a corner.

Really, it had been stupid to come here without her lightsabers. So many different men had decided to approach her table as though she _wanted_ to talk to them. She wished she had the hilts to drive them away. Most people stayed away from the Jedi when they wandered into places like this. These people seemed to see her decorated braid and not have a single care in the world. Maybe because she hadn’t been wearing it properly. Iza had tucked it into her messy little updo in an attempt to make herself look older in case the doorperson didn’t let her in. The joke seemed to be on _her_ since there was no doorperson and she hadn’t been bothered when she bought her drinks. No wonder Anakin got in here so easily. She had no idea how many pops she’d taken off of the bottle when a familiar blue-skinned figure strolled up in her line of sight and leaned up against the edge of her table. Looking up, Iza sagged in her seat when her eyes met Aayla’s.

“May I sit?” The other girl asked.

“Sure,” nodding, Iza sighed heavily and waited as Aayla joined her. She wondered if she was about to be reprimanded for leaving the Temple. She also wondered how the Twi’lek had known she’d left at all. Iza was pretty sure that she’d been careful enough not to be followed. Then again, her head wasn’t doing so well. She was so upset with Obi-Wan that she couldn’t think straight. Perhaps that was why she was sitting here in the club and not back at the Temple working her frustrations out on combat droids.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Aayla asked, propping her cheek against her palm before pulling the bottle towards her. Iza thought that she might be keeping it from her, but the girl only took a quick drink and passed it back. For a moment, she studied the older woman and then stared down at her hands as the ache in her chest became a hard clench and the tears she’d fought so hard to keep at bay since the alcohol sank in began trickling down her cheeks.

“I do not know what to do, Aayla,” she sniffled, turning her hands up.

“Is this about Obi-Wan?” The other girl smiled when Iza picked her head up and gave a look of shock. “Do not look so surprised. My master and I are more in tune with you two than you think.”

“That’s not comforting at all.”

“If you’re worried about anyone else at the Temple, I do not think there is much to be alarmed over.” Shrugging, Aayla took the bottle again for another quick swallow and pushed it away. “Do not let me have much of this. I will have to take us back tonight and I cannot drive intoxicated.”

Iza pulled the bottle closer to her and held it by the neck, heaving a sigh.

“I don’t know if I’ve made a mistake,” she brought the bottle to her lips and swallowed down a mouthful that burned and didn’t taste quite right. Maybe _this_ was her mistake. “He says he was not unfaithful and I… I believe him. In my heart, I believe him.”

“Then why are you here, _keella?_ ”

“He took the bracelet off.” Iza whispered, biting her bottom lip. “It sounds… I know how it sounds but…”

“You feel as though he broke part of your bond?”

“Yeah,” the brunette nodded, looking up. “I can forgive him shaving even if he looks _stupid_. And I know his hair will grow back. But… the bracelet… those are our _lights._ That’s _us_. He wears that bracelet in front of the Council and does not feel shame. Why would he suddenly remove it for a job?”

Across the table, Aayla hummed quietly as she studied the brunette. Drumming the fingers of her free hand on the tabletop, she gave a sigh and shrugged lightly.

“There are many reasons, _keella_. If it were an undercover assignment, he could not go in wearing such a decoration. If he is meant to be playing a role, he must stick to the costume. We do not always get to choose the things we must wear and what we must remove.” She smiled knowingly and gestured for the bottle. “One more will not hurt. This is like water for me, anyhow.”

“Do you drink with Master Quin?” Iza slowly passed the bottle over, smiling when Aayla snorted.

“ _No_ , never. My master is not much for sharing.”

“Obi-Wan will not be pleased with me,” the younger girl’s smile softened as she sank back in her seat, leaning her head back. She could not explain the feeling running through her other than it was warm and almost comfortable. Her head felt funny, too. It almost reminded her of the mushrooms from Ragoon VI, just without the strange visuals. The more she thought about Obi-Wan, the more the warmth became something achy and painful and the more she wanted to cry. She felt the fine muscles in her cheeks starting to twitch as she pressed her lips together tightly and shut her eyes, bringing her hands up to cover her face. “I’ve ruined it! I’ve ruined everything, Aayla!”

“ _Keella_ ,” moving over in the booth, Aayla put an arm around Iza’s shoulders and gave her a light squeeze. “You have not. Obi-Wan cares for you very deeply. You must know that.”

“I should not have been so mad,” Iza gulped down a hard breath and ignored the looks she was getting by a few club goers passing the table. “I should have accepted that he took it off for the job. He just smelled so heavily of perfume and there were… he had blonde…”

“Where did he go?”

“I don’t know,” she shook her head and sniffed hard, shrugging. “He would not tell me. He just said it was a _personal request_ from an old acquaintance.”

Aayla made a face like she was deep in thought but it melted away as soon as Iza looked over at her. Smiling gently, she used the hem of the younger girl’s poncho to dab at her cheeks and gave her shoulders another squeeze.

“Obi-Wan is a noble man, Iza. You said yourself that you know in your heart he would not stray from you. Even if he had to remove the bracelet for a short while, it does not mean he loves you any less, _keella_.”

“I missed him so much,” Iza leaned into the Twi’lek girl, pouting as she pulled the bottle of green liquor close and brought it to her lips. Again, the stuff didn’t taste quite right. It wasn’t as sweet as it’d been before and it made her head feel even lighter. “I missed him and I was so mean.”

“I think you have had enough,” laughing, Aayla took the bottle and set it out of reach. Iza didn’t argue. “We should burn some of this off before I take you back.”

“I do not wish to go back,” shutting her eyes, Iza pressed her forehead to her palm and leaned over the table. “I cannot face him. I’ve made a fool of myself.”

“You have a curfew, Iza,” brushing hair from the Padawan’s face, Aayla frowned. “You cannot stay out all night without your master.”

“You are a Knight,” the brunette looked over slowly. “Does that not count?”

“I’m afraid not.”

Letting out a groan, Iza crossed her arms over the top of the table and rested her head against them. _Bad idea_. The entire room seemed to spin around her and left her with a horrible sick feeling in her stomach. Flattening her palms against the tabletop, she inhaled sharply through her nose and picked her head up again.

“I think the Force is trying to torment me,” she slurred, blinking hard.

“No, _keella_ ,” Aayla laughed and pet the younger woman’s hair. “You are drunk. Or on your way to being drunk.”

“Why does anyone do this on purpose?” Looking over at her friend, Iza blinked hard and made a face. “This is much worse than the yellow capped mushrooms.”

“You have eaten wizard caps?” Iza wasn’t sure if Aayla was impressed or surprised. “I don’t believe even my master has partaken in those.”

“It was not on purpose,” snorting, the brunette looked over at the bar and poked her tongue into her cheek. She wondered if they had anything simple, like _water_. Perhaps maybe a fruit juice she could drink to clear her head. Slowly, she started to push up from her seat when Aayla took hold of her arm.

“Where are you going?”

“I was going to get a drink,” pointing, Iza shrugged. “Did you want something?”

“I will get you something to drink,” moving to climb out of the booth, the Twi’lek laughed and put her hands out in a restraining motion. “You stay here, _keella_.”

“I need to use the refresher,” Iza mumbled, glancing at the door that was _all the way_ across the club. “May I?”

Aayla couldn’t help laughing. The girl was absurdly polite at times. She wondered if she was like this all the time or if this was Master Obi-Wan’s influence.

“You may. Just take care not to linger in there. And do not take anything anyone offers to you. I do not care how nice they are or how pretty they tell you that you look.”

“Do I look pretty?” Iza looked down at the simple blue dress she’d worn. It was light and fit nicely, she thought. Perhaps a little short and showy in places, but it had not been meant for anyone’s eyes but Obi-Wan’s. She’d never imagined she’d be in the Outlander with it on. “I feel like I look a mess.”

“You look very lovely,” Aayla smiled and reached to help her stand, gauging whether or not she ought to help the other girl cross the room before she left her on her own. When Iza seemed to be all right after a moment or two, she hesitantly let her go. The girl teetered a bit, but thankfully was wearing normal boots and was capable of righting herself without fuss. Shaking her head, she kept her eye on her as she walked up to the bar and ordered a few plain fizzy fruit drinks for the two of them. After mulling something over for a few moments, she pulled a comm link from her belt and switched it on. “I found her, Master. You better prepare him. She is… _intoxicated._ We’re at the Outlander. I would hurry if he wishes to see her before she becomes incoherent.”

~*~*~*~

Iza found that once she’d splashed her face with a little water and gotten some of the non-alcoholic drink into her, she felt a _little_ better. It helped more when Aayla insisted that they burn off some of the alcohol and dance for a while, too. She had no idea what she was doing. Aayla was both a natural and a good teacher. She also seemed more interested in showing Iza how to feel the music in the Force and let that be her guide rather than do any dancing herself. After a while, Iza seemed to get lost in the heavy thrum of the sounds around her. It was almost like another form of meditation without having to be still for long periods of time. She was in such a deep trance that she did not even feel the soft _nudge_ along the Force that usually alerted her to a familiar presence. It wasn’t until a gentle set of hands were settling over her swaying hips and pulling her back against a chest that felt like home that she allowed herself to become aware of her surroundings again. The warm, comforting scent she’d missed so much filled her nose on the next inhale of breath and Iza felt her chest tighten.

A head came to rest against hers, scratchy stubble brushing her cheek as the hands on her hips became arms around her waist. When she looked down, Iza saw a quick glimpse of blue and a single flicker of silver around one wrist. Her chest tightened even more and she blew out the breath she’d taken in a quiet sob, ducking into her shoulders shamefully to try and hide.

“Why did you stop, darling?” Obi-Wan’s voice was quiet and gentle over the loud music. Iza covered her mouth. She did not want him to smell the alcohol on her breath. Shaking her head, she shut her eyes and tried not to let herself crumble into tears while he held her. She did not deserve his tenderness. She did not deserve anything. She felt him press his lips against the side of her head and she broke. Sagging into his chest with a sob, Iza kept her hands over her face even when he gently turned her around and pulled her in close. “Iza,”

“I am a _terrible_ girl! Wretched and horrible and _mean!_ ” She buried her face against his shoulder and shuddered, tensing lightly as he cupped the back of her head. “You do not deserve to be treated so poorly! You do not! I’m filth! I’m _trash_ —”

“What have I told you?” his voice took on a stern tone when he nudged her into tipping her head back, blue eyes fixing to her teary green ones as a frown pulled at his lips. Bowing his head, Obi-Wan rested his forehead to hers and tried not to let the shock show in his expression when he was greeted by the strong aroma of alcohol. He’d been warned that Iza had _had a few drinks_. It smelled as though she’d sampled the whole damn bar. “Those are such vile things to say about yourself, darling. I will not have it.”

“But it’s _true,_ ” she whined, her inebriated eyes still a bit startled by his appearance. She’d all but forgotten about the loss of his beard. The fact that his hair wasn’t falling across his forehead the way that it should put a strange sense of upset in her stomach as well. “I hurt you.”

“My sweet girl,” he kissed her despite the boozy smell of her breath. “I’ve hurt _you_.”

“You are so good…” Iza whimpered, pushing her forehead into his as she shut her eyes. “You are _so_ good, my Obi-Wan. You do not deserve—”

“ _I do_ ,” he did not want to hear her continue this. Obi-Wan understood well enough that she seemed to be quite drunk and would likely attempt to return to her sad babbling. He would not let her. “My darling, it is not for you to decide what I do and do not deserve.” Closing his eyes, he lightly tunneled his fingers into the hair at the back of her head. “I did not use my head. I should not have removed the bracelet. I will not do it again.”

“I missed you,” as she rested her hands against his chest, Iza became aware of the fact that he was not wearing his robes. He wore some kind of loose, dark colored tunic. The club lights made it difficult to tell just what color it was. It was nice to feel his chest and not several layers of linen beneath her fingers. “I felt so lost without you. Like I was no longer whole.”

“Me too,” Obi-Wan cracked his eyes to watch her, unable to keep the tiniest of smiles from creeping across his lips when she traced the neckline of his tunic. “I will not take another assignment without you, my girl. Even if I cannot involve you, you will come with me.”

“Your master…” Iza made a face and looked up at him, a little surprised by the smile on his face. Had he been watching her? “He—”

“I know,” the smile became a look of annoyance. “He drugged you, darling. He used to do the same thing to me when I was younger and refused to sleep.”

The brunette blinked slowly as she processed the information, pulling back once it’d sunk in. A disturbed sort of expression crossed her features and she let out a funny noise.

“I _told_ Anakin I felt funny,” she frowned hard. “He said I was just tired.”

“He likely did not know. You mustn’t be upset with him.”

“I would very much like to give Master Qui-Gon a good kick,” huffing, Iza shook her head. “I would have slept eventually.”

“Three days, darling?” Running his fingers along the side of her face, Obi-Wan gave a soft look of worry. “I understand why Quinlan was worried.”

“Master Quinlan would not leave me be,” she looked frustrated, leaning into him a little more. “If he’d just let me—”

“He did his job, Iza. As a Jedi and as my friend. As _your_ friend.”

“He took my saberstaff,” pouting, the brunette touched the tips of her fingers to his chin. She missed his beard. Obi-Wan was always going to be handsome with or without it, but she had come to adore the sight of it and the feel of it against her skin. Above her, he laughed softly and pressed his lips to her forehead. The stubble was rough and annoying and it made her pout even more. It was such a stupid thing to be upset about. She couldn’t understand why it bothered her so much.

“You’re distracted,” he murmured, tilting his head to look at her. “What is it, darling?”

“It’s stupid,” she shook her head and drew back from him with a weak smile. _His hair_. It was not terribly short and still would tousle nicely but it would feel different between her fingers. She would like to find the woman who’d made him change his appearance like this and give her a good knock to the—

“It will grow back, my girl,” Obi-Wan could read her like a damn book. Especially when she was giving him such a forlorn look as her eyes skimmed his face. “The hair may take a little longer, but it _will_ grow back.”

“I have not seen you like this in so long,” she gave a slow shake of her head. “Before I was sent away, I think. Even then, you had the beard.”

“You are such a silly girl,” smiling, he pulled her to him and gave her forehead another kiss. “You understand that I have not changed, yes?”

“I know,” sighing heavily, Iza grumbled. “What sort of heathen woman cannot appreciate a _beard?_ ”

Obi-Wan had to fight to keep from laughing. This one was _drunk_. It was quite clear by the way she kept swaying to the music even as she was trying to hold their conversation. He hadn’t tried to stop her. He’d been surprised when he’d walked into the club with Quinlan and spotted her out here on the dance floor. It had been her appearance that had drawn his attention first. He’d seen her in various modifications of her robes, but had never considered what she might look like wearing a _dress_. He would never have pictured in one so short, either. A floor length skirt didn’t seem suitable, but perhaps one that was _below_ the knee instead of _above_ it might’ve been something he expected. He would not complain, nor would he complain about the generous amount of skin the neckline bared to his eyes. Well—he might complain when _someone else’s_ eyes were drawn to it. It was hard to tell whether it was white or blue beneath the rosy lights of the club, but he appreciated the filmy material all the same. He wondered if she knew that it was just a _little_ on the transparent side and that he could see the outlines of her curves _quite clearly_. Silly girl; he would not be surprised if she’d not known to buy something that was to be worn _beneath_ it.

“Would you like to continue dancing, darling?” He asked finally, noting that she definitely was having trouble staying still now. Iza looked up at him for a moment and tilted her head.

“Are you asking me to?”

“Oh—I…” Obi-Wan was not much for _club dancing_. He knew a few classical dances, but nothing that could be done here. Of course, there had been a handful of times when he’d gotten quite drunk with Quinlan and somehow ended up out here. He was pretty sure he’d made a damn fool of himself, too. He couldn’t be sure.

“Would you feel better if you were not so sober?” The brunette gave a faint smile that bordered on being a bit sheepish before she ducked her head. “I should not have come here.”

“I understand why you did, darling,” he wasn’t sure he wanted to have a drink, honestly. He was more content to simply guide her off of the floor to give space to those who’d been staring at them, finding an empty table to sit at where he drew her onto his lap. “I am, however, quite concerned with how intoxicated you appear to be.”

“I could not stop,” leaning back into his chest, Iza could not manage to keep still. He did not appear to mind. “It did not even taste good. I just… I did not want to feel what I was feeling anymore. I could not be in the Temple. I did not know where else to go.”

“I suppose there are worse places,” blowing out a breath, Obi-Wan ran his fingers through his hair and watched her as she lightly rocked her upper torso to the music. She didn’t appear to even notice she was doing so. It made him smile.

“What is that look for?” The brunette eyed him. “Are you cross with me?”

“No, darling,” leaning over, he gave her a quick kiss to the cheek. “I’m simply watching.”

“Aayla showed me how,” she shrugged. “I cannot stop.”

“It may help if we were to leave,”

“Must we?” She gave him one of those sad looks of hers, dropping her head back on his shoulder and sticking her bottom lip out just enough to make herself look pitiful. “I have missed you so. I do not want to part from you.”

Obi-Wan breathed a deep sigh. He was going to get in trouble for this. He had given his debriefing already, so there would be no need to rush back for that. But these overnight stays away from the Temple would begin to look suspicious—especially when the Council realized that Iza was missing along with him. He honestly wished they would hurry up and process his assignment petition. He did not understand what was taking them so damn long to do it. Maybe he needed to put in another?

“ _Obi-Wan_ ,”

 ** _Weak._** _Such a weak man_.

“I think I have enough credits for a room,” he smiled as warmly as he could with the anxious thoughts running through his head, nosing at her temple affectionately. “I _did_ just snag a hundred of them from Quin.”

“You stole from Master Quin?”

“No, my darling,” laughing, Obi-Wan shook his head. “I won them in a bet.”

“Oh.” After a moment, she sat up and looked around. Swearing softly, Iza put her face in her hands. “I’ve forgotten where I put my things.”

“I have them,” he rested his chin on her shoulder. “They’re in the storage of the speeder bike.”

“You brought that awful thing?”

“I had to get here _somehow_ , darling.”

“You really _must_ learn to walk.” Giving him a look, Iza eyed him and pressed a kiss to the side of his head. “I have credits.”

“And where did _you_ get credits?” He teased, nudging her out of his lap. Steadying her with his hands on her hips as she wobbled, Obi-Wan waited until he was sure she wouldn’t topple before leading her out of the club.

“I earned most of them,” she made a face. “Some are also left over from the _one_ offworld trip I took with Master Windu. He never asked for them back.”

“We typically do not bother asking for them back, darling,” Obi-Wan snorted, steering her down the walkpath to where he’d parked the bike. He would have to make her sit up front again. She would _not_ be safe on the back in her state. “You’ve put yours to good use, I see,”

“What do you mean?”

He gave the dress a light pluck and smiled when she started turning pink. Glancing away, Iza shrugged a shoulder and nearly tripped herself on her own ankle. Grabbing onto him, she stared wide-eyed at the barrier separating them from the long fall into the pits of Coruscant and twisted to press her face into his side. _Nope_. That was not something she wanted to see. She didn’t need that in her head right now. She didn’t want to feel that floating sensation or the nausea that came with waking from those nightmares. Unfortunately, closing her eyes so tightly caused her head to spin and created an almost perfect simulation of that feeling throughout her body. She clawed at him, pulling at his tunic in a panic as her breathing became erratic. The sick feeling was bubbling in her stomach. She wasn’t going to be able to stop it. Iza stopped pulling and pushed at him instead, turning away as the first hard roll of her gut brought up the liquor she’d been drinking that evening.

“ _Iza!_ ” Obi-Wan wasn’t sure what the hell had gotten into her. He’d felt the way she’d started to panic and attributed it to having looked over the edge of the walkpath. But he had not expected her to have such a desperate reaction. He reached out to her to gather the loose bits of her hair back and pull her away from the puddle of sick as it got larger. Well, he supposed he wouldn’t have to worry much about her vomiting during the drive. _Hopefully_. When it seemed as though she’d finally stopped, he rubbed lightly at her back and tilted his head to look at her. “My girl, are you all right?”

“I do not want to do this again.” She looked miserable. He knew the feeling very well. “Water?”

“I will get you water,” he nodded, carefully guiding her away from the mess she’d made. He wasn’t sure _where_ he was going to get water without going back into the club. There were small shops on the opposite walkpath, but he didn’t want to leave her. Hesitating, he turned to look at her and brushed hair away from her clammy forehead. “Darling, will you be all right if I—”

“You’re still here?”

Both turned to find Quinlan and Aayla standing nearby, looking somewhat amused. After a moment, Quinlan’s expression changed and he raised an eyebrow at Obi-Wan.

“What’s going on?”

“She’s been sick,” Obi-Wan gestured behind them. “I was going to go and get her water but I do not want to leave her by herself.”

“I will get it,” Aayla clearly was not going to take _no_ for an answer as she headed off in the direction of a crosspath. Quinlan, however, crouched a bit and eyeballed the brunette.

“Someone did not teach you how to suppress your drunkenness.” He smiled faintly and shot Obi-Wan a sidelong look. “Would you like some help?”

Iza slowly shook her head, lips twitching in a faint smile. Quinlan’s brow rose high on his forehead and he squinted.

“Punishing yourself is not going to do you any good, little one. He has forgiven you. You need to forgive yourself.”

The younger girl stared at him for a long time before she turned away, saying nothing. Both Jedi exchanged a look and Quinlan straightened to his full height again.

“I expect you’re not coming back to the Temple with us?” He asked.

“She doesn’t want to go.” Obi-Wan turned his hand up. “I will not force her. Not tonight.”

“Be careful, Obi,” Quinlan said quietly, giving his friend a look.

“I know what I’m doing, Quinlan.”

The other man gave a look as if he wasn’t quite so sure, but he didn’t have the chance to say anything about it as Aayla returned holding a bottle of water.

“Here, _keella_ ,” twisting the cap off, she handed it to Iza and held a hand up. “Do not drink it fast.”

Nodding, Iza rinsed the inside of her mouth out before taking slow, careful sips. After a few silent moments, she reached to take the cap from Aayla and murmured a soft _thank you_ , turning to Obi-Wan with a miserable, sheepish look.

“I would like to leave, please.”

“Of course, my girl,” he nodded, sliding his palm gingerly across her shoulders before giving Aayla a nod of gratitude. He turned to continue guiding Iza down the walkpath, feeling Quinlan’s eyes burning into the back of his head. He waited to see if the other man would call after him. He did not. _Thank the Force_.

“Will he say anything?” Iza asked as they approached the speeder bike, giving it a wary look.

“Quin? Of course not.” Even as he said it, he wasn’t entirely sure. His friend was not much for _tattle-telling_ , but he couldn’t be certain that if he thought he was straying far enough from the Code, Quinlan might let slip that something was going on between himself and Iza. “He has more skeletons in his closet than most people. He would not have any right to say anything.”

Iza didn’t look convinced. Iza also looked extremely uneasy as she stood so close to the edge of the parking platform where he’d left the bike. Looping an arm around her waist to give her a better sense of security, Obi-Wan took the water bottle from her to stow it away in the storage compartment and mounted the bike.

“Come here, darling,” holding her hands tightly, he helped her climb onto the speeder bike in front of him and encouraged her to grab hold of the crossbar in front of her. “The trip will not take long.”

“I know.”

Resting his chin on her shoulder, he gave her a gentle squeeze and kissed the side of her head.

“I have you, darling. You’re safe.”

“I know.”

Obi-Wan started to frown, wishing he knew a better way of comforting her. He’d tell her to close her eyes if she were not so intoxicated. He knew from experience that was _not_ a good idea. Lightly drumming his fingers against the handlebars, he sighed and pushed the starter, surprised when she barely even flinched. She really must’ve been out of it. Straightening behind her, he revved the bike and pulled away from the curb, easing into the slower lane of traffic overhead. As promised, the trip to the motel was not long at all—though it took a bit longer than he would’ve liked to find parking—and once he’d shut the speeder down, he slipped his arms around the brunette and carefully lifted her off the seat.

“Obi-Wan?” Iza held onto the handlebars while he dismounted and gathered her things from the storage compartment.

“Yes?”

“Will you show me how to fix this? I would like to not feel so disgusting.” She looked even more miserable than before when he looked at her and Obi-Wan could not help the faint smile that quirked the corners of his lips. Nodding, he slipped his arm around her and leaned down to kiss her forehead.

“I will do that for you, darling. And then I think we both deserve to watch the lights for a while.”

“I’d like that.”

“Good,” nudging her lower back, he guided her towards the building and heaved a sigh. “I have a new technique to show you, my girl. I think you’ll enjoy it.”


	12. Eternally Yours

“Darling,”

The soft press of lips against the back of her neck stirred her from sleep. Iza wished it hadn’t. Almost immediately, the hard throb of a headache like none she’d ever experienced before pulsed through her skull. The swimming sensation from the night prior followed it and set her gut swirling with nausea. It felt like the bed was pitching around beneath her, rocking side to side and rotating in slow circles when she tried to concentrate on a way to still it. She was afraid to move. She didn’t want to open her eyes. A hand smoothed up along her bare back and left a pins and needles sensation in her skin, making her whimper and bury her face deeper in the pillow. The soft puff of breath on her shoulder followed a quiet chuckle before more light kisses followed.

“ _Iza_ ,” Obi-Wan carefully hooked his fingers in the dip of her waist to try and turn her over. The brunette resisted and clung to the bedding, whimpering helplessly.

“Don’t,” she moaned into the pillow, sounding like she was close to crying. “I can’t… move.”

“Hungover, are we?” He should not have been so amused. Really, it was _mean_ to want to snicker so much at her. She’d done it to herself. But he had to remember the reason she’d done it, as well. He was _partially_ at fault for it.

“Obi- _Wan_ ,” Oh, what a pitiful sound. It truly did wound him to hear her so confused and helpless. He hadn’t exactly warned her about this part.

“I cannot help you if you do not let me touch you, darling,” he soothed, leaning over to kiss her shoulder once more. “Would it be better if you moved at your own pace?”

She grunted. He had no idea what that meant. He would give her a few more minutes to process his inquiry before trying again. As he waited, she started to shift beside him. There was a deep inhale of breath through the nose as she slowly pushed herself up on her arms, and she paused more than once to press the back of a wrist to her mouth. He certainly hoped she would not be sick. Turning over on the bed, he reached for the bottle of water he’d left on the table and rolled back to find her sitting up and staring at him with the most miserable expression he’d ever seen.

“Oh, my sweet girl,” uncapping the water, he held it out to her and gave her pale cheek a light stroke of his finger when she took it. _Now_ he felt bad. She made a soft noise and started taking small sips of the water—and then began drinking from the bottle as though she hadn’t had any to drink in weeks. “ _Easy_ , darling. Do not make yourself sick.”

Iza felt like she’d been left in a desert with how dry her throat felt. She very nearly ignored Obi-Wan’s warning and drank clear through to the bottom of the bottle, but her belly objected with a warning churn and she pulled it away from her mouth. Breathing heavily, she shut her eyes against the splitting pain pounding in her head and blindly waved a hand to shut the blinds. The touch of his hand on her face again pulled another weak grunt from her and Iza leaned into Obi-Wan’s palm with a pout.

“I’m dying,”

“No, darling,” he looked like he was trying very hard not to laugh as he settled back on the pillows and carefully gathered her close, draping her across his chest. “I know it feels that way, but you are not dying.”

“I thought your little trick would stop this?” She almost regretted lying on her belly like this. The water was sloshing around inside of her and her head was back to spinning wildly. She had to shut her eyes.

“It’s meant to,” pulling her up a little higher, he pressed his lips to her forehead and sighed quietly. “You may have been too drunk to do it properly.”

Iza grumbled and rested her head beneath his chin. Despite how horrible she felt, it was nice to be close to him again. Feeling his skin against hers was a very welcome comfort, even if his hands left strange tingles as they smoothed along her spine.

“Are you comfortable?” He asked, the smile evident in his voice. Iza nodded sleepily and drew in a sharp breath when the passes of his hands became stronger, _warmer_. It felt similar to the sensation she got when he healed her stupid bumps and bruises. When he tunneled his fingers into her hair and cupped the back of her head, she let out a soft noise of confusion but he said nothing. He only fixed the tips of his fingers against very specific spots on her skull and pressed down before rubbing in gentle circles. Iza’s entire body seemed to melt into his as the ache in her head slowly drained away, taking with it the queasiness and dizziness. Massaging his fingers down the back of her neck, he gave her a nudge. “On your back for me, darling.”

It took her a moment to move and she did so very carefully, allowing him to guide her so she wouldn’t topple from how stupidly relaxed her body had become. Once she was settled in place with her head resting beside his, Iza shut her eyes again and flinched as he began making those same strong passes of his hands across her belly. She could feel his chest rising and falling in sync with hers against her back and wondered if this was another Runi technique—he sure knew a _lot_ of them—but did not have much time to dwell on the thought as he moved up from her abdomen to the sides of her head. Again, he was very deliberate in the placement of his fingertips and the gentle circles he rubbed against her scalp had her putting her full weight on him. By the time she felt him press a kiss to her temple, her body was buzzing all over for a completely different reason than a hangover. She let him wrap her in his arms as she breathed deeply and basked in the soft warmth he’d somehow flooded her with.

“Is that better, my girl?” He asked quietly, settling his chin against her shoulder. His breathing was still very much in sync with hers, heavy yet relaxed at the same time. The feel of it fanning across the side of her face made Iza shiver. She nodded at him, reaching to brush her fingers along the arms he had wrapped around her.

“Thank you,” Iza would never drink again. No matter how damn upset she got in the future, she would never do anything that made her feel so terrible _ever_ again.

“You feel very content,” Obi-Wan smiled. There was the _tiniest_ hint of smugness in that smile, Iza noticed. He deserved to feel smug, honestly. She had not been this relaxed since before he left.

“Of course I do,” Tilting her head to rest it against his, the brunette smiled and found his hands, hooking her fingers around his to squeeze them. “I’m with you. I feel like myself again.”

“You’re sure that’s not the scalp massage talking?” He teased, watching as she leaned away to give him a look. Kissing the end of her nose, he tightened his arms around her and nuzzled her cheek. “I _jest_ , darling,”

“You know, it _could_ be,” Iza’s tone was playful. “You have amazing hands.”

“It is far too early for you to start this,” he chuckled, kissing her shoulder.

“What time is it?”

“A little after nine,” Obi-Wan looked apologetic as he said it, like he knew waking her this early had been a bit of a bastard move. Judging by the look she shot him, he was correct.

“Why so early?” Iza was used to being up earlier but not when they stayed away from the Temple together. They often slept clear through to noon those days.

“I got a call this morning,”

Iza started to sit up and he pulled her back, tightening his hold. Suddenly, she was not so content. He looked the picture of nonchalance. She hated how he could do that.

“ _About what?_ ”

“An assignment,”

She twisted in his arms to look away from him. She didn’t want to hear it. She didn’t want to hear how she was about to have him taken away again. They’d barely been able to spend twelve hours together and she’d been so terribly intoxicated that they hadn’t been able to properly enjoy the time at all. He had shown her the lights as promised, but the new Runi technique had been put off. He’d claimed that she needed to be sober. There was a lot involved, apparently, and he needed her with a clear head for the amount of consent she needed to give. Iza could feel the familiar, annoying ache of disappointment creeping into her chest when he pressed his lips to her neck and murmured quietly,

“They’ve approved our adventure, darling.”

The ache quickly became an electric shock that shot straight through her and escaped in a sharp gasp. Twisting around again to look at him, Iza stared as if to ask if he was jesting and got a soft smile in return. _He was serious_. She wanted to cry. She wanted to scream. She wanted to turn over and give herself to him to express just how excited she was. But Iza would have to settle for pushing her lips against his and fighting off the brightest damn smile she’d worn in over a week. He seemed pretty pleased as well, humming and casting a fond smile in return.

“You understand this is not a pleasure trip?” He did not want to dampen her mood, but it was his responsibility to remind her that they’d be out on an assignment, not a vacation.

“I do. I don’t care. I will crawl through a gundark cave with you if I must if it means we get to be alone and away from Coruscant.”

“It is not quite as extreme as that,” he chuckled softly and nuzzled his face into the crook of her neck. “We are being dispatched to investigate a rather alarming occurrence on Candoria.”

“Candoria?” Iza made a face as she stared at the ceiling. “Hasn’t that place been empty since…” she had to pause to think. “…at least before I was born?”

“Precisely why we’re being sent there, darling. There has been a sizeable amount of activity reported as of late.”

Iza hesitated before finally rolling over onto her stomach, frowning at him.

“Is that place not still polluted by the disease?” Now she wasn’t sure she wanted to go at all. She wanted her time alone with him, but she didn’t really feel like risking _that_ sort of certain death for it. “Is it safe?”

“I do not believe they would send us if they didn’t have the proper equipment,” reaching to brush the hair away from Iza’s face, Obi-Wan smiled faintly and dropped a kiss to her chin. “We may not even need to leave the ship. We could get away with a few thermal scans and see what the readouts are. It could be that the planet is simply rebuilding itself.”

“The council would not send us if it were a few animals, Obi-Wan,”

“They do not know _what_ it is, my dear,” running his finger along her jaw to try and soothe her, he sighed and turned a hand up. “We will, at the very least, have the benefit of a long journey. Candoria is clear across the other side of the galaxy. Even in hyperspace it will take quite a while to reach it.”

Still looking a bit skeptical, Iza could do nothing but sigh. It was the opportunity they’d been waiting for. She’d also just opened her big, stupid mouth and said she didn’t care _what_ they had to do as long as she could be with him. She had to suck it up and deal with the fact that they would be going to a planet that had long been assumed to be empty and would—hopefully—no longer house the deadly virus that had depopulated it. She also had to trust that the council would send them with the proper breathing equipment _just in case_. Pulled back to the present by the slow skim of palms down her back, the brunette let her eyes come back into focus and settle on Obi-Wan’s curious face. Leaning down, she rested her forehead to his and shut her eyes.

“I will learn to _think_ before I speak,” she snorted.

“You did not speak this into existence, darling,” he smiled and stole a kiss. “But that is not a bad mentality to have.”

“ _Obi-Wan_.”

“Would you like to go back to sleep for a while, my girl? You look so very exhausted,” reaching to comb his fingers through her hair, Obi-Wan gave a soft look when she pulled back and gazed at him. “We do not have to be back at the Temple until later. I have convinced the council that I’ve taken you for a lesson.”

“They didn’t question why you were naked?” Iza grinned slow and raised an eyebrow.

“I was _dressed_ when I got the call.”

“Mm,” she folded her hands over his chest and propped her chin on top of them. “So you got _undressed_ again to wake me up?”

“I showered, darling.”

Looking up at his hair, Iza noted that it was—indeed—damp from a shower. Pursing her lips in a soft pout, she tilted her head and rested her cheek against her hands.

“Without me?”

“ _You are wicked_.” Tutting, he laughed and wound his arms around her. Pulling her up so she rested a little higher on him, Obi-Wan was not surprised to feel her shift and straddle his waist. Shaking his head as though he actually minded her rather forward behavior, he gave her a look and stroked his thumbs against her hips. “Just what are you doing?”

“Nothing.” She shrugged, looking as innocent as she possibly could while perched on top of him the way she was. “Looking.”

“Mhm,” he gave one of her hips a pinch and tried not to grin at the soft squeal he got in return. “Looking at _what?_ ”

“This _strange_ man in my bed,” the look in her green eyes was playful. Reaching up, Iza gently grasped his chin and turned his head from side to side. “See—he _sounds_ like my Obi-Wan. He smiles like my Obi-Wan. He kisses like my Obi-Wan. His eyes are just as pretty as my Obi-Wan’s…”

“But?” He would play her game. If only to see where it was going.

“I do not think his face would feel the same between my thighs as my Obi-Wan’s.”

Obi-Wan’s next breath left him in a heavy, almost flustered rush and he stared up at her with wide eyes. It was _much_ too early for this sort of talk. And yet—he couldn’t stop from poking his tongue into his cheek and giving her that damn wicked look of his. Shaking his head, he waved a finger at her and laughed.

“I have ruined you,” he muttered. “I took a perfectly sweet girl and _ruined_ her.”

“You have done nothing that I haven’t allowed you to do,”

“That is what frightens me the most.”

“ _Obi-Wan_.”

“Quiet,” winding his arms around her, he carefully rolled her beneath him and planted a deep kiss to her lips. Pulling back, he hummed thoughtfully and smiled. “I suppose we ought to see if your assumptions are correct or not, darling.”

“You _suppose?_ ” Iza mocked sarcastically, giggling when he dipped his head and gave her jaw a nip.

“You are a terrible girl,” he growled, planting quick kisses over her face. “You are terrible and I love you.”

“And I love you,” she smiled wide and threaded her fingers into his hair, giving the tiniest of tugs. “I love you dearly, my darling Obi-Wan,”

~*~*~*~

“Padawan Tacor,”

Iza turned at the sound of her former master’s voice, looking surprised that he was flagging her down. She’d been in the middle of bringing her things down to the hangar to pack them into the starship—what little she had to bring, anyway—and he’d caught her about midway. Turning, she looked up at him expectantly.

“Master Windu? Is something the matter?”

He didn’t seem bothered by anything. But this man _never_ seemed bothered by anything. _Ever_. His eyes seemed to focus on her for a long moment before he pulled himself into a straighter posture and tucked his hands behind his back.

“I understand you’ve been assigned the Candoria mission,” those dark eyes were searching for _something_. Iza could feel it in her gut. Well—she was just going to have to shut him out, wasn’t she? In a well-practiced move, the brunette began to dull her open connections to the Force, feeling that familiar sense of detachment creeping into her head. It wasn’t a tactic she used much anymore; she didn’t _have_ much use for it anymore. Not since she’d promised not to hide from Obi-Wan anymore. But it still came in handy for blocking out everyone else’s prying eyes.

“Yes sir,” nodding with a smile, Iza could feel a sensation akin to a moth bumping into transparisteel trying to get at a light behind it. He was strong. If he really wanted to, he could break her barrier. She really hoped he wouldn’t. “We’re due to leave within the hour.”

“Are you sure you’re prepared?”

“Of course, Master,” what the _hell_ kind of question was that? They were going to inspect a possible reemergence of life. There would be nothing terribly dangerous about this mission as far as they really knew. The only thing that _might_ be of any harm would be any lingering traces of the virus, and they’d been provided with full suits and breathing apparatuses to keep them safe. “I’m sorry Master Windu, but I must—”

“Padawan Tacor,” he was still pushing against her barrier, searching for a weak point to fracture and break his way into. “I would like for you to reflect upon yourself during this trip. While you have made amazing progress, I feel as though you have also allowed yourself to fall back into old habits. I would hate to learn that you allowed your emotions to, once again, cloud your judgements.”

“With all due respect, Master Windu,” Iza needed to keep hold on that detached state. He made it a little easier by saying such a rude thing and reminding her of _why_ he’d sent her away. The barrier gained another layer and she took a single step away from him. “My mind has never been clearer. I must go. Master Kenobi is waiting for me.”

He eyed her for a long while before giving a slow nod of his head.

“May the Force be with you,”

Iza only nodded back and turned to leave, rushing down the corridor. She didn’t like that. She didn’t like that he seemed to _know_ that maybe she wasn’t quite so in tune with her mindfulness anymore. While she was still doing her best to abide by the Code, Iza was definitely struggling with _some_ aspects of it as well. But it wasn’t as though she was alone in the matter. She knew Obi-Wan had begun to fray a bit at the seams, too. They’d both assured themselves and each other that they had a handle on it. They could manage both commitments—and so far, they were doing a pretty okay job of it, she thought. Perhaps _she_ might be a little _too_ passionate at times in comparison to Obi-Wan, but she did not know how else she was meant to react to certain things. Surely she couldn’t be expected to just brush them off like they were nothing or had never happened? _Love_ was not meant to be experienced nonchalantly; it needed to be _felt_. It was the anger and the upset that had to be let go of and she did her best to do that. She allowed herself the time to process these things and then she threw them out into the Force where they belonged. She would _not_ do that with her feelings for Obi-Wan.

“Iza?”

She hadn’t even realized she’d made it to the hangar until she was bypassing the starship. Stopping in her tracks, she turned around and stared blankly at Obi-Wan for a moment before hurrying over.

“Sorry,” shaking her head to try and clear it, she moved to head up the ramp when he caught her gingerly by the arm.

“What is the matter?” She had that look in her eye. That dull, lifeless look she got when she pulled away from everything. For a moment, Obi-Wan worried he’d done something wrong. It was a silly thing to think; they’d parted on fantastic terms so they could gather what they would need for the trip. Someone or something else had upset her. When she gave a weak smile and shook her head again, he saw some of the shimmer beginning to bleed back into her eyes and frowned hard. “Darling, _what is it?_ ”

“We will talk about it when we are off the planet,” she gave his hand a quick brush of her fingers and pulled away. The last thing she needed was for someone to see him looking so damn concerned for her. She didn’t want word getting back to Master Windu to confirm any of his suspicions. “Have you got everything squared away, Master?”

“Nearly,” he followed after her slowly, staying put near the doorway while she went to set her things in the sleeping chamber. “I’m waiting for the rations crates.”

“Mm,” Iza was shrugging out of her outer robe when she reemerged, going to the small standing closet in the corridor to hang it up. Her eyes seemed to wander everywhere else but to Obi-Wan and it made him even more concerned for her.

“Iza,” he came further into the starship, folding his arms across his chest. “You feel dreadfully anxious, my girl. Is this about the assignment?”

“I said—” she drew in a breath and looked up at him, feeling a fleeting sense of guilt over how worried he appeared. Reaching up to take her hair down from its bun, she shook it free and began pulling it back up just to give her something to do with her hands that didn’t involve yanking it. “No, Master. I would feel much more comfortable talking about this when I know we are truly _alone_.”

He made a face like he didn’t fully understand at first. When Iza shifted her gaze towards the Temple, he got it. Nodding, Obi-Wan gave a faint smile and cleared his throat.

“Very well,” he dropped his arms at his sides and let out a sigh. “I suppose I will go and see what is taking so long with the crate.”

“Master Obi-Wan,”

“Yes, my dear?” He smiled in that soft, warm way of his and noted how it seemed to relax her a little. _Good_. He preferred it when she wasn’t projecting such heaviness upon his chest like that.

“Do you feel as though I am in need of reflection?” Iza hadn’t quite finished putting her hair up and was idly twisting a piece of it around a finger, giving a tiny tug to it every now and then. It was unclear whether her question was what caused Obi-Wan’s brow to quirk as quickly as it did, or the sight of her pulling at her hair like she wasn’t aware she was doing it. Either way, he crossed the space between them and gently detangled her fingers before settling his hands on her shoulders, giving her a curious tilt of the head.

“May I ask why you’re bringing this up?”

“There has been…” the brunette hesitated and reached for her hair again, this time with the full intention of simply pulling it back. “…an accusation made that I have allowed myself to fall back on… _old habits_.”

“Old habits?” He didn’t understand what that meant, but he also didn’t like the idea that someone else was judging _his_ Padawan.

“Have I not been as mindful as I feel, my Master?” Iza fiddled with her belt this time, frowning lightly as she stared down at the toes of their boots. “I know I’m guilty of allowing myself to feel certain things more freely than I ought to, but… has it become obvious?”

Obi-Wan knew he had to approach this as her _teacher_ and not her _lover_ , but he could not help feeling a sense of personal irritation that someone had gone and planted such doubt into her head like this. He felt as though she was doing well enough, all things considered, and while perhaps there may have been some tiny slip ups, she was far more in control of herself than she’d been before her trip to Ragoon VI. Even when he’d spoken to Master Qui-Gon to scold him for having slipped her the sleeping powder, his former master had only commented on her focus. She’d apparently wanted only to keep training in order to maintain her sense of normalcy while he was away. Obi-Wan knew better than that—as did Quinlan—but if _Qui-Gon_ could not sense a disturbance within her, then surely she was not as out of balance as she thought she might be? Giving a slow shake of his head, he set his hands on her shoulders to get her to look at him and fixed her with a stern expression.

“You are more in control of yourself than you believe, Iza.” She had her moments when they were alone together, but that was _their_ business. She was allowed her vulnerabilities within the privacy of his company as far as he was concerned. “I do not know who has led you to believe that you must reflect upon yourself, my girl, but I have not found any faults in you that are worrisome. I say this _as your master_.”

It was unwise for her to question whether or not _his_ judgement of her may be clouded. Iza trusted Obi-Wan enough to know when to separate their professional and personal relationship, so even though the thought crossed her mind for a nanosecond—she knew better than to voice that concern. Obi-Wan was older, more experienced. He knew how to remain mindful of himself and his judgements far better than she did and she trusted that he would tell her when he believed her to be out of balance. She would not seek his advice if she did not think he’d be honest with her. She also would not seek his advice if she did not believe him to be more in control of himself than she may have been of _herself_.

“Okay,” nodding, she offered another faint smile and tried to relax her shoulders. It wasn’t easy. Master Windu’s words were not something she could simply _brush off_. “Thank you, Master Obi-Wan.”

“Of course, my dear,” he reached up and brushed a few stray strands of hair off her face, lingering maybe a moment too long with his hand on her cheek. Still, he smiled and fought the urge he had to kiss her—they were still very much out in the open here—before dropping his hand at his side and clearing his throat. “Why don’t you get settled? I will return in a moment.”

Iza nodded again and waited for him to go before she let out the breath she’d been holding and wandered up to the cockpit. Dropping down into the co-pilot’s chair, she rubbed her hands over her face and looked out through the transparisteel. Obi-Wan stood talking to one of the workers, who gestured and shook his head as he spoke. While her Master appeared as nonchalant as ever, she could see in his eyes that he was becoming a bit frustrated. She wondered if there was a problem with the rations. He must’ve sensed her curiosity because his eyes flicked up towards her and he gave a quick, reassuring smile before turning back to his conversation and motioning to a corner of the hangar. The worker gave a shrug, said something, and then began moving toward it while Obi-Wan watched on. After a moment or two, the other man came back with a hover cart stacked with three crates. They exchanged another short bit of conversation and then Obi-Wan was guiding the cart towards the starship to load the crates up.

“What was that about?” Iza asked once he’d brought everything on board. The older Jedi appeared not to have heard her, turning around to head down the ramp so he could leave the cart at a safe distance from the starship and board again. He would not speak or look in her direction the entire time he was preparing them to leave, and there was a sense of irritation that radiated off of him in waves that made Iza a bit nervous. Obi-Wan didn’t typically get annoyed like this—not _outwardly_ , anyway. When they’d been cleared to take off and he’d gotten settled in beside her, Iza stole a cautious glance and got a quick look in return. He waited until they were on their way past the air traffic tower before he reached over and settled his hand on her thigh.

“It’s nothing for you to worry about, my dear,” he said in a tone that she didn’t like. After a moment or two, he leaned over and set his chin on her shoulder, dropping his voice to a whisper. “We must be careful, darling. I have a terrible feeling we are being monitored.”

“ _Monitored?_ ”

He squeezed her thigh reassuringly and dropped the tiniest of kisses to her cheek.

“Not for very long, I assure you. I will look over everything when we get into hyperspace. Try to relax.”

Iza nodded, though she wasn’t entirely sure how he expected her to _relax_ after hearing something like that. The idea that they were somehow being _monitored_ on their trip was extremely unnerving. Knowing that Hyperspace would screw up any open communication lines that may be hot was a small comfort, but that did not mean there weren’t other ways for the council to keep an eye on them here. Perhaps this whole assignment had been set up just to monitor them. It didn’t make much sense. They hadn’t acted too out of the ordinary aside from the few times they’d spent the night away from the Temple, but Obi-Wan had given pretty solid evidence to convince the council that he’d taken her for overnight lessons elsewhere on the planet. Unless someone had _said_ something, there should be no need for this. But—why else would they be sent off to a dead planet like Candoria?

“Iza,” he gave another gentle squeeze to her leg and stirred her from the anxious thoughts. _Right_ , she needed to relax. Taking a deep breath, Iza settled her hand over his and sank back in her chair to shut her eyes. They would be out of the atmosphere soon and would make the jump to Hyperspace not long after that. She could return to her anxieties when it was appropriate. A light smile curved the corner of her lips when she felt him lean across the space between them and kiss her cheek again and she tilted her head into his as he murmured, “It will be all right, my darling. I will take care of this. I promise.”

~*~*~*~

Iza didn’t know how to feel. As she sat staring at the seven— _eight_ ; Obi-Wan had just dropped another onto the pile—miniature devices that were typically used for spying on people during covert assignments, a strange feeling of betrayal had settled in her stomach. She didn’t know who’d said anything or why they’d say anything; she had a feeling it was probably a lot of hallway talk that had gotten the attention of the Masters. _Gossip_. It had only been gossip the first time around. There’d been no substance behind the accusation before and maybe that was why only Master Windu had done anything about it. _Stop the problem before it starts_.

Master Windu.

They’d long since lost the bond they had once shared as Master and Apprentice but she sometimes still felt a curious pull towards him at times. It was more like a hint of an old memory than anything that could be accessed, but he was a very powerful Jedi. He was known for being able to find shatterpoints in the Force. Perhaps he’d found hers? When he’d flagged her down earlier she’d felt the very distinct sensation of him trying to break through her barriers. Even Obi-Wan couldn’t do that. When he attempted to feel his way through her blocked signature, it felt like someone lightly nudging at her. This had felt far more invasive and persistent. Master Windu had been _searching_ for a way in. What a strange thing for him to do. He had practically handed her over to Obi-Wan on a silver platter. He’d been the one to point out that it’d been a purposeful move, too. She wasn’t meant to be his permanent student, so why continue meddling? When she and Obi-Wan were still very loyal to the Code and the Order— _why bother them?_

“That’s the last of them,” Obi-Wan muttered as he dropped a ninth bug onto the table. “I cannot find any more with the scanner.”

“I don’t understand this,” Iza said quietly, picking up one of the tiny devices. It had been fried clear through by a pulse of Force energy; there was no danger of it recording her any longer. It did not help to put her at ease in the slightest. “We have been very careful. We have not behaved inappropriately within the Temple walls. Why…?”

“I don’t know.” He shook his head and frowned at the pile on the table. “My best guess is that perhaps we have not been as careful as we think.”

“It is none of their business,” pinching her mouth, the brunette dropped the bug back into the pile and folded her arms across her chest. “We vowed to keep ourselves true to the Order. Is that not enough?”

“Darling,” sitting beside her on the bench, Obi-Wan gathered Iza into his lap and let out a sigh as he rested his head against hers. “Unfortunately, the council does not approve of these things no matter how loyal you remain to the Order.”

“I do not approve of being told I am not allowed to be happy.”

“I share the sentiment, my girl,”

“I grow tired of this, Obi-Wan,” Iza swallowed hard and blew out a heavy breath. “I do not mind hiding so much as I hate feeling like I am perceived as disloyal without being given a chance to prove otherwise. I will not be made to give you up. _I will not_.”

Obi-Wan was silent for a moment or two, preferring to stay in his thoughts before he turned and kissed the side of her head.

“Our choices are minimal, darling.” He whispered, tightening his hold on her so she wouldn’t try fighting her way out of his arms. Continuing to kiss his way down her cheek to her neck, he planted his face there and let out a quiet hum. “Any choice we do make will solidify the council’s suspicions. That will not go over well for either of us.”

“If we are to be cast out, then why not just _leave?_ ” Iza felt the way he tensed behind her and shut her eyes. She hadn’t _wanted_ to suggest it. She knew what the Order meant to Obi-Wan; it used to mean the same to her. But it seemed that the longer they were together, the more she found that—perhaps—following the Order was not the ideal life path she once thought it was. Drawing in a deep breath, she tried to keep from letting it become shivery when she exhaled and fought hard against her wobbling jaw. “I do not want to let you go.”

“No,” his voice had gone thick and low. “I do not want that either.”

He had been here before. This was not the first time he’d been made to force a choice upon himself like this. Each time, he’d been left with a hole inside of himself that had taken years to heal. Obi-Wan wasn’t sure that he could do it again. Not without some serious consequences. There had already been a shift within him the last time he’d had to give in to the strict ways of the Order, although anyone who’d known him for years simply believed that he’d fallen back on his old reckless habits from his youth. Quinlan was, quite possibly, the only one who knew the truth. Quinlan had been the only one who’d stayed close enough to him to keep him on the right side of things.

 _Be careful, Obi_.

The warning made more sense now. It had nothing to do with getting caught—not directly. He was warning him to watch his heart, to watch the way he reacted to how others treated Iza. He was warning him not to get too deeply involved if he was not ready to face the consequences. Quinlan had a funny way of knowing when things were about to go bad. Perhaps he’d known this was coming? It would not have surprised him at all.

“I knew there was a reason I did not want to stay there,” Iza’s teary voice pulled him from his thoughts. “I knew the feeling I was getting was not right. I do not have such terrible nightmares when we are not in the Temple.”

She had a point. Iza slept quite soundly when they were outside of the Temple walls. Even the few times they’d shared his bed, she’d woken him up with soft crying fits. He had not said anything, but he’d begun to have disturbing dreams of his own as well. Nothing that felt as severe as hers, but it was still enough to keep him awake after he’d been roused by them. Surely the Force was trying to say something? What other reason would there be for this sort of thing to happen?

“Obi-Wan?”

He turned his head to look at her, reaching up almost immediately to dry the tears on her cheeks. He hated it so much when she cried like this. It hurt him to see her in such distress when he didn’t know how to properly comfort her.

“Yes, my darling?”

“I want to leave.”

It should not have shocked him the way it did to hear her say it out loud. He’d had a feeling she might say such a thing, but it did not make it any less surprising. He knew his job as her master was to discourage this. He was supposed to talk her down from the idea of walking out of the Order. She was meant to be a Jedi. She had a purpose. All of this training would go to waste if she simply left. He would feel like a failure if he could not get her to stay; to himself and to her. But the side of him that was her lover was more than ready to pack up and run. He would feel like such a hypocrite if he tried to convince her that the ways of the Order were the only way for them to live. He had been to this point before—for very different reasons—and he’d almost stayed away permanently. He had also been a _child_ , then. He was a grown man now, very capable of making a decision like this. He was capable of seeing that the ways of the Order were _not_ the way for _them_ to live. The Force would not have paired them together this way if it was.

But it put such a strong sense of anxiety in his chest to think about what would become of them if they left. Obi-Wan enjoyed the structure provided by Jedi living. He enjoyed living at the Temple, even though it’d been a bit suffocating as of late. He had friends there. It was his home. He was not sure how they would manage outside of that home. There were options—there were _always_ options—but he was unsure if any were right for them.

“You do not,” Iza swallowed hard and he felt the way her heart tightened in her chest when the sensation was mirrored within his. “You wish to stay.”

“Darling,” he turned her in his lap to make it easier to look her in the eye. “You understand that this is a very, _very_ serious decision to make?”

“I do not know how many times I need to tell you that I am not a kriffing child, Obi-Wan,” she looked close to losing her hold on her composure. He supposed he couldn’t blame her. “But I was nearly exiled for loving you once before I even got the chance to do it _properly_. I do not _care_ about what it means to leave. I told you—I only want _you_. But if this is not what you want, then…” Iza looked away, face screwing as she glared at the wall. “…I will stay. I will do anything you want. Anything you ask. Even if I must suffer.”

“That is unfair to you,” Obi-Wan didn’t know what else to say. It had been on his tongue to tell her that he just wanted a little bit of time to think it over, but she’d continued talking and completely thrown him off.

“I care not.” She exhaled harshly and dropped her gaze to her lap. “I will not be made to give you up.”

“You will be made to do so if you stay.” The realization hit him somewhere in the center of his gut and nearly knocked the wind out of him. They would both be taken from one another. He would be given a choice because of his Knight status—and because of Qui-Gon, no doubt. He could strip her of her Padawan braid and cast her out, or he could be the one to leave. Both were situations she’d had nightmares about. It made him sick just to think about it. He was right—their choices were minimal. They only had _one_ choice. “We shall leave.”

“Obi-Wan?” Iza sounded startled when he said it, and he wasn’t surprised when she grabbed at him as he slid her from his lap to go to the navigation console and drop them out of hyperspace. “ _Obi-Wan!_ ”

“Give me a minute, darling,” he was fiddling with things on the console, moving to the other side to get at the communications port. Running his fingers through his hair, he appeared to hesitate before tapping in something and waiting. When the blue holo-transmission figure of Quinlan popped up looking mildly concerned, Obi-Wan fixed his friend with a look and the two men stood staring at one another in complete silence for a few long moments.

“I didn’t say anything,” Quinlan spoke finally, folding his arms across his chest. “You know that I wouldn’t, Obi.”

“I know. That is not why—”

“Have you opened the crates?” The Kiffar gestured behind the other man. Obi-Wan twisted to look at the ration crates for a split second and then turned back to his friend.

“I have not. I was busy de-bugging the starship.”

“Your belongings are in the red one.” A knowing smile lifted the corner of Quinlan’s lips. “ _Both_ of your belongings.”

“You knew?” Iza had gotten up from the bench and lurched her way over, scrubbing her cheeks with the sleeve of her tunic. “How?”

“Call it a hunch, little one.” Drawing a deep breath, Quinlan set his eyes on Obi-Wan again. “I suggest finding a place to lay low for a while. Trade the starship for something less conspicuous. If you need credits, contact me.”

“Will they come looking for us?” Iza asked, leaning into Obi-Wan’s side. “If we have not formally declared our exit—will they search for us?”

“I’m not sure,” turning his hand up, Quinlan shrugged. “You have the option of sending a recorded transmission.”

“We will discuss it,” Obi-Wan waved a hand and rubbed at his chin in thought. “I have an idea of where to go. We will make a stop and trade the ship and I will contact you once we’ve settled.”

“You’d better,” Quinlan pointed and fixed his friend with a look. “I’ve really put my ass on the line for you this time, Obi. It’s only a matter of time before I have Qui-Gon _and_ Windu banging down my door for answers.”

“Thank you, Quin,” Iza gave a watery smile and got a gentle look in return. “You do not know what this means to us.”

“I’ve got an idea.” He shifted his eyes to Obi-Wan for a moment, giving a light nod. “Stay in touch.”

“We will. Thank you, Quinlan.”

The transmission blinked out and both of them seemed to let out the same heavy breath. Looking at one another, they laughed quietly and sank against each other. For a long time, they just stood there trading soft touches against each other’s backs and the occasional kiss to a forehead or a chin. Finally, Iza pulled back to look at him and then glanced at the red crate in question.

“…do you think this is why it took so long for them to pack the rations?” She asked, letting go to wander over and open it. Inside, the contents of their rooms had been packed away quite neatly. Neither of them had much to begin with. Frowning when she saw a small pouch tagged with her name, Iza reached in and plucked it out—immediately realizing what it was.

“What have you got there, darling?” Obi-Wan gestured, wandering over.

“ _Nothing_.” Tucking it behind her back, she gave an innocent look and tried not to smile. She knew there was no way of hiding the secretive look in her eye, but she also didn’t care.

“Mhm,” he folded his arms across his chest and raised an eyebrow. “ _Iza_ ,”

She smiled as prettily as she could, hands shifting behind her back to get the object free of its pouch, which fell to her feet behind her. Stepping around the crate to stand in front of him, Iza gave his toe a tap with her boot and softened her smile.

“Close your eyes and hold your hands out.”

“ _Iza_ ,”

“Please?”

Obi-Wan gave her a wary look before sighing and doing as he was told. He felt her take one of his hands and set something sizable into his palm. Smooth, not terribly heavy, and strangely _warm._ He felt her close his fingers around it and smiled when her lips pressed against his cheek.

“For you, my love,”

Opening his eyes, he looked down at the object and tilted his head. He had seen something similar once before. Quinlan had gifted one to Aayla when she was younger. It was some sort of Kiffar tradition to pass one of these along to someone you loved, he’d learned. A _Heart of Fire_ , he’d called it. This one was a very pretty shade of red and seemed to pulse with a soft light from its center. He wondered faintly where she’d gotten it and then realized how stupid of a question that was. If there was anyone who could get their hands on a Kiffar artifact, it was the only Kiffar man she knew in her life. A soft, almost disbelieving laugh left him as he turned it over in his hand and looked back up at her. Iza stood with such a sweet look on her face that it hurt his chest. He wondered how long she’d waited to give this to him. He decided he didn’t care. Reaching out, he curled his hand around the back of her head and drew her in for a soft kiss, resting his forehead to hers as a slow smile spread across his lips.

“Thank you, darling,” he turned the stone over in his fingers, rubbed his thumb across the surface of it. “I shall cherish this.”

“Are we going where I think we’re going?” Iza stepped closer to him, running her fingers over the stone and noting that it seemed to grow warmer. Obi-Wan’s smile widened and he tutted at her with a chuckle.

“Can’t get anything past you, can I?” He kissed her again, lingering long enough to continue trading smaller ones until he pulled back to speak. “Indeed we are. We must first trade the ship, but we will most definitely be returning to where we belong.”

“You’ve no qualms about living in a cave?” She laughed, raising both brows.

“Oh— _darling_ ,” he wound an arm around her and shook his head. “We shall have a home. It may be a simple home, but a home we shall have.”

“Can it be _by_ the cave?”

“Yes it can.”

“Good.” She drew in a deep breath and suddenly looked nervous. “I would very much prefer to raise a baby near where we fell in love.”

Obi-Wan nearly dropped the stone in his hand. His eyes fixed on her hard and shifted back and forth, watching as she raised her hands and shook her head.

“I… I am not _certain_ ,” she said quietly, trying not to break eye contact. “But something feels different.”

“Different?” He wasn’t sure if he needed to sit down or not. He definitely needed to put the stone away before he accidentally broke it. Putting it into the pouch at his waist, he ran his fingers through his hair and blinked at her. “Different _how_ , darling?”

“I cannot explain it.” She shook her head, frowning. “I just… had a vision of a baby and a river while you were gone. It is part of the reason I could not sleep. I have not felt ill or anything. But I feel as though there’s a change coming.”

Obi-Wan could only stare at her, his hand fixed over his mouth in partial shock. If he reached, he could only feel one life signature within her. So there really wasn’t very much to be terrified over _just yet_. It would certainly teach him to be so damn reckless with her, however. They needed to be settled first before they thought about _babies_. It took a long time before he was able to speak again, and he did so with a quiet laugh.

“I suppose we will need more than one bedroom, then.” He almost felt bad for how relieved she looked. She’d done a pretty good job at keeping that panic from him. Reaching out, he drew her close and kissed the middle of her forehead, trailing his lips to her mouth and smiling against it. “I’m sorry if I’ve frightened you, darling.”

“No more than usual,” she joked, snickering when he nipped her mouth. Pulling back to look at him, she lifted her arms to wind them around his neck and gave a soft sigh. “Where must we go to trade the ship?”

“Well,” he sucked his teeth and made a face. “The one place I know with a shipyard that does not discriminate about where the traded ships are from is on Nal Hutta. It is not somewhere I’d prefer to bring you, but it will provide us with what we need.”

“Then that’s where we’ll go.”

“Darling,” Obi-Wan laughed and ran a finger down the side of her cheek. “If you thought you hated the warm weather on Ragoon VI, you will _despise_ Nal Hutta.”

“We are not moving to Nal Hutta. We are trading a ship and leaving.” She shrugged and nodded towards the navigation console. “We ought to see where we are and see if we can’t find a hyperspace route.”

“In a hurry, are we?”

“I was just promised the freedom to love you as openly as I want,” Iza shot him a pointed look. “ _Yes_ , I am in a hurry to cash that in. Besides, the trip back to Ragoon VI will still take time. It is not as though we can instantly teleport—although, it would be nice.”

“All right, all right,” shaking his head with a laugh, Obi-Wan kissed her temple and pulled away to go check the navigation console and see whether or not he could map out a route from where they were. It would be a bit of a jumpy trip, but doable. Surprisingly, it would take them less time to get to Nal Hutta than expected. Setting the course for the starship, he put them into hyperdrive and turned back to look at her. Turning his hands up as he leaned against one of the chairs, Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. “It will be a few hours. What shall we do until then, my dear?”

“Celebrate?” She grinned at him, tucking her hands behind her back while attempting to look as innocent as possible.

“ _Celebrate?_ ” He parroted, raising an eyebrow. He knew what she meant. He just felt like taunting her.

“I can celebrate by myself,” Iza shrugged and tried not to laugh when she saw his features harden. “Oh—is that not allowed?”

“Absolutely _not_ ,” moving away from the chair, Obi-Wan shook his head. The brunette let out a wild giggle and turned to rush down the corridor into the sleeping chamber with him hot on her heels. He caught her before she could close the door, arm slinging around her middle and hauling her back against his chest. He set his teeth against her neck with a growl and then kissed his way up to her ear. “ _Wicked girl_.”

“ _Your_ wicked girl,” Iza nestled into him and dropped her head onto his shoulder with a smile. Giving a light wiggle of her hips, she shot him a look and nudged him. “We only have a few hours. We ought to make good use of them.”

“Oh— _we shall_ , darling. We shall.”

~*~*~*~

“This is a Republic starship,” the pawnshop owner muttered as he looked over the ship with distain. “Is this some kind of joke?”

“I assure you it’s no joke.” Obi-Wan had stripped himself of his robes and his lightsaber, stashing them in the crate still aboard the ship in an effort not to look suspicious. It wouldn’t look good if a Jedi was attempting to trade off a starship in a place known for criminal activity. “My wife and I need a safer bird. This one is in perfect condition—we just want something _simpler_.”

“This thing is gonna be hotter than a kriffing Tatooine sun,” shaking his head, the man rubbed the back of his head and frowned. “I’ll have Jedi all over the place.”

“There are no trackers in it.”

“Trust me when I say those people _know_ when their ships end up here.”

“Listen,” Obi-Wan rubbed at his chin and shot the Rodian a look. “The little lady has a bit of a temper. If she finds out I can’t get this thing traded, she’s going to raise some hell. I don’t know if you _saw_ her, but trust me when I say she’s more fun when she’s not trying to claw someone’s eyes out.”

It felt wrong to talk about Iza like that. Obi-Wan was disgusted with himself, honestly. But he knew how the people out here worked and he didn’t think Iza would mind much if it got them out of here with something other than the starship. Watching as the Rodian cast a look back towards his shop where his helper was chatting with the petite brunette, he heaved a sigh and shook his head.

“I guess I can give it a paint job.” He sounded irritated as he said it. Obi-Wan noticed he hadn’t taken his eyes off of Iza yet either. “What are you after? Another starship? I have one but it’s an older model.”

“How’s the hyperdrive?”

“Works.” The man was almost distracted now and Obi-Wan wasn’t sure if he wanted to risk punching him or not. “I’ll give it to you fully fueled for the Republic bird.”

“Can I take a look at it?”

“S’over there,” gesturing to a starship that had been booted to keep it from being stolen, the Rodian still did not take his eyes away from Iza. Reeling in the urge he had to put a boot to the man’s head, Obi-Wan went to inspect the ship for defects. It seemed to be in reasonable condition. The paint job was shoddy, but the interior was pretty well kept. The sleeping quarters were not quite so lavish as the one on the other ship, but that wasn’t much of a concern. They could bring their things on board and still be comfortable. He could not find fault with anything. They would take it. Coming back down the ramp, he found Iza standing with the pawnshop owner, her hands tucked behind her back and a quiet smile on her face as she listened to him boast about the starship her _husband_ was about to score for them. She caught Obi-Wan’s eye and her smile became mischievous for half a second before she turned to the owner and propped a hand on her hip, watching him follow the movement as though in a trance.

“You have a nice collection of combat weapons inside,” she could see quite clearly her _eyes_ were not where his gaze was pointed. Like Obi-Wan, she’d ditched her Jedi robes and gone back to just the rolled up under-tunic and low-hung trousers. It worked nicely as a distraction. “What do you want for the quarterstaffs?”

“Sixty credits each.”

“I’ll take both.”

“They’re a bit tall for you,” his starry eyes shifted over her frame and his head tilted lightly to the side. “Wouldn’t you prefer something—”

“I prefer _tall_ things.” It was most definitely a jab at his height. He was probably an inch or two shorter than her. Going to the pouch on her belt, she shot him a look and raised an eyebrow. “I will take the quarterstaffs and the clothes your helper has packaged for me. _Darling_ ,”

“Yes?” Obi-Wan had finally strolled back over, trying his damnedest not to look as amused as he felt. He settled a hand on her lower back and watched her look up at him.

“Have you secured the ship?”

“I believe I have,” giving a look to the shop owner, he got a slow nod in return. The man looked as though he wasn’t entirely sure what was happening, but also didn’t appear to have any objections about what was happening either. He motioned for Obi-Wan to follow him and turned to start towards the shop. When he was far enough away, Obi-Wan shot Iza a look and raised an eyebrow. “What have you done?”

“ _Nothing_ ,” she pressed a kiss to his cheek and smiled sweetly. “I will get the crates onto the ship. Make sure he removes that boot.”

“I shall,” holding his hand out for the credits she’d counted, he snorted. “Quarterstaffs, darling?”

“Would you have preferred if I bought a blaster?”

“ _No_.” Shaking his head, he dropped a kiss to her temple and headed for the shop to finish the transaction.

~*~*~*~

“Will they allow our pilgrimage?” Iza asked as she sat snuggled against Obi-Wan’s chest. The cot in the new starship was not quite so comfortable, but it could have been much worse. “I did not even think about this before.”

“I believe we’ve built up a good enough rapport with the villagers to be allowed a space on their mountain. We are not wasteful, we are not disruptive and we followed the rules of the planet. They will still see us as Jedi—at least for a little while.”

“And when we ask permission to build a home?”

“It will have to be up to their standards. We will need to follow their rules. We will not have the same luxuries as we had in the Temple, darling.” Running his fingers along her arm, Obi-Wan kissed her shoulder and sighed. “I suppose it really will be no different than living in the cave. We will just have a _door_.”

“I did not mind not having a door.”

“If you become pregnant, you will mind _very much_.”

“Do you think they will allow us to build in the field?” Tilting her head to look at him, Iza raised an eyebrow. “I did like that area a lot. A small home would not be terribly disruptive and we will keep the starship away from the water. We have all of the lanterns and heaters we need. I took all of the emergency provisions from the other—”

“You _took_ them?” Obi-Wan laughed and eyed her. “You cleaned out the other bird?”

“Of course I did,” she shot him a funny look. “Obi-Wan, I was not giving those things to that man.”

“Did you steal away the medic droid as well?”

“Might’ve done.”

“ _Iza_ ,” still chuckling, he pressed his lips to the side of her head and gave her a tight squeeze. “Well, I suppose it’s better than being stuck with nothing. If you become pregnant, you will need some form of medical guidance and I cannot provide that.”

“You keep saying _if_. Like you’re certain my vision will not become true.” Eyeing him, she reached up and traced the curve of his chin. “Perhaps I should have kept it to myself?”

“Darling,” he dipped his head and kissed her finger. “I say _if_ because nothing is certain. I am not saying it because I do not wish for it to happen. I think I would be delighted to have a family with you. _However_ —as I said before, we must get ourselves settled first.”

“All right. I can accept that.” Falling silent for a moment, Iza suddenly tensed and a sense of dread filled Obi-Wan’s chest. Startled, he tilted his head to look at her in concern.

“Iza?”

“What if it is Force sensitive?” Her eyes had gone a bit wide and she was staring blankly at the wall in front of them. “They will find us. They will come for the baby—”

“My girl,” he gave her a quick squeeze to try and comfort her. “The Jedi do not just _take_ children. That is a rather disgusting myth that has been around for far too long. If our child is Force sensitive, someone may indeed come out to test them—but we will not be _required_ to hand them over.”

“We will _not_ hand them over.” Iza had clearly already made up her mind about this hypothetical baby and Obi-Wan did not want to be the one to argue with her about it. “We can handle it ourselves.”

She had a point. Who better to raise a Force sensitive child than a former Jedi Knight and his former Padawan?

“While I believe we are getting a little ahead of ourselves—I will not fight you, darling.” Laughing quietly, he pulled her closer and tucked his face in the crook of her neck, planting kisses there to try and soothe her. “Do not fret so much, my sweet girl. Do we need to celebrate again?”

Iza let out a soft laugh and relaxed some, tilting her head to rest it against his.

“I _will_ become pregnant if we continue celebrating.” She murmured, reaching back to run her fingers into his hair. “How much longer, Obi-Wan?”

“Long enough for you to get sleep, my dear.”

“I do not wish to sleep,” she sighed, turning to look at him. After a moment or two, she tilted her head curiously. “Will you read to me?”

Obi-Wan’s brows lifted high on his head. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d done that. She definitely had been much younger, he knew that much. Honestly, he wasn’t sure if she was joking or not and he was sure the tiny laugh he let out conveyed that.

“Do not laugh at me.” Iza frowned and poked her bottom lip out at him. “I saw that Quinlan packed your books.”

“You are serious?”

“Of course I’m serious. I love listening to you read.”

“I…” He didn’t know what to say. He could clearly recall how she would sit at his feet while he read from some of his lesson books—if the stories were appropriate for her ears, of course—but she had not asked in so long that he’d thought her to have grown out of it. Slowly, he started to smile and leaned over to press a soft kiss to her lips. “I would be happy to read to you, darling.”

“I will make the tea, then,” Right. They’d had a ritual, hadn’t they? He’d sneak some of Master Qui-Gon’s tea and they would sit together in the quieter halls of the Temple while she listened to him. Sometimes they just did lessonwork and he’d help her. But mostly, they spent the time reading. Why were these things _just now_ resurfacing? How strange.

“Do we have tea?” He asked, letting his arms fall away from her so she could get up. He followed suit, trailing after her as she went to open one of the crates.

“Obi-Wan,” giving him a look, Iza snorted. “They knew _you_ were going on a trip. Of course they packed tea in the rations.”

“Thank goodness for that,” going to the crate that held their belongings, he popped it and leaned in to sift through his book collection. “I was worried you’d be making some of that ragwater tea.”

“It’s called Mudleaf and the only reason it was so bitter is because I was brewing it wrong,” making a face at him, Iza grabbed two of the bags and the electric kettle from the crate as well as a bottle of water. “You’re meant to crush the leaves _before_ you dry them. I didn’t know.”

“How did you find out?” Picking one of their old favorites, he tucked the book beneath his arm and watched her ready up to prepare the tea.

“Master Qui-Gon. He caught me drinking it in the garden and told me. Apparently he made the same mistake during your stay on Ragoon VI.”

Obi-Wan hummed quietly at that. He could not recall much of that trip. He’d filed a lot of it away in the back of his mind for a reason. Waiting while Iza got everything ready, he took note of the fact that she still had her Padawan braid tucked behind her ear. He hadn’t been paying too much attention to anything since they’d left Nal Hutta—too distracted by the idea that they were _free_ and on their way to their new home—but he wondered how he’d missed it during their little _celebration._ Reaching out, he ran his fingers along it and watched her jump in response. Their eyes met for a long moment, that strange feeling settling over them as their breathing slowly fell into sync.

_You haven’t taken it out._

Iza looked as though she wanted to turn her eyes away, but couldn’t. Reaching up, she pulled it forward and let her fingers trail over the beads that decorated it. She looked hesitant.

_Darling, you do not have to._

The brunette flicked her gaze away then and the cloud lifted. She’d begun twisting the plait around her fingers and appeared to be struggling not to tug at it. Obi-Wan reached over and carefully loosened her hold, bringing her hand to his mouth to kiss her knuckles.

“Will you continue to teach me?” Iza asked quietly, not looking at him. “If I take it out, will you still guide me, Obi-Wan?”

He stared at her. A strange feeling filled his chest and his movements were almost automatic as he pulled her to him and tipped her chin up so she would look at him. They gazed at one another for a while before he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to her lips, nodding as he pulled back.

“Of course, darling,” he wasn’t sure why he felt so taken aback by the question. He’d had every intention of continuing to guide her, even if it was not down the path of a Jedi. She still had more to learn about, well— _everything_. Academic lessons and lightsaber training would not cover the things he knew. She did not need to wear the braid in order for him to teach her anything anymore.

“Will you remove it for me?” Gesturing to the crate that held their lightsabers, she looked back up at him. “It does not feel appropriate to just _take it down_.”

“Do you wish for me to do this now?” Running the pad of his thumb along her jaw, Obi-Wan tipped his head lightly. “Or would you like to wait until you have finished learning all you can from me?”

“Will it bother you to look at?” _She knew_. Iza had always known that the braid made Obi-Wan a bit uncomfortable in their most intimate of moments. She could feel it, after all, when that little pinch of guilt would hit the center of his chest. As though he was doing something far more sinful than he really was.

“No,” the answer was honest. At first, it might continue to jar him but Obi-Wan was certain that he would be able to look past it in time.

“Then I will leave it.” Leaning up on her toes to kiss him, she smiled and twisted to look over her shoulder when the electric kettle chirped to let her know it was done. “There’s our tea. Go. Get comfortable. I’ll be over in a moment.”

“All right,” giving her another kiss, he turned to go and get settled on the cot. The thing really was not very comfortable, but at least it seemed to be clean. He watched as she fixed their mugs and carried them over, setting them on the foldout table beside the cot before crawling onto the bed beside him and moving to rest her head against his side. Smiling, he looked down and raised an eyebrow. “Wouldn’t you be more comfortable on my shoulder, darling?”

“No,” she shook her head and smiled up at him in return. “I like it right here.”

“As you wish, my dear,” humming, he smoothed his hand over her back and moved to crack the book open, thumbing the pages to find the right story to read. He paused when Iza reached up and stopped him, tapping her finger against the page.

“This one,” it was one of the old adventure stories he’d always had to skip around because there were parts that were a bit inappropriate for her young ears. She’d favored it and he could never understand why. “Maybe you can read the whole thing this time.”

“How do you—”

“Obi-Wan,” looking up at him, Iza snorted. “I knew how to _read_. I could see the words just fine. I just preferred it when you told the story.”

“Fair enough,” he chuckled and bowed to kiss the top of her head. “I shall read the _whole_ story this time.”

~*~*~*~

If not for the growth in greenery, Iza would have assumed that someone had kept up the old camp. There was a fair amount of sand inside of the cave and some of the riverbank had shifted from what she imagined were nasty rainstorms, but everything else seemed to be intact. She was pretty sure if she poked around enough, she’d find the ashes from the last fire they’d built in the pit and even the bones of the last meal they’d eaten there. Her boulder was in the same place she’d left it, though the water appeared to have risen enough to cause a growth of moss along the side of it. Everything looked the same and smelled the same and she could not remember the last time she felt so _at home_.

“This is the last of it,” Obi-Wan said as he trudged through the brush with their bags. They’d parked the starship in the field with the blessing of the villagers, but Iza had insisted on staying at the cave until they could begin building their home. Obi-Wan could not find it in him to object. There was plenty of room to store their things and it was still quite warm out. They would not need proper shelter for a few more months and if they could not get their home built before then, they could always stay in the ship.

“Set it there,” she pointed to a spot just inside the cave. “I will get to organizing things in a while.”

Nodding, he set the bags where she’d indicated and let out a breath, taking a look around. The place was as beautiful as ever and still kriffing _hot_. He gave no thought to it at all as he stripped his tunic off over his head and began removing his boots. Only when he caught Iza staring at him from the corner of his eye did Obi-Wan pause to consider what he was doing.

“What? What have I done?” He asked, raising a brow.

“ _Nothing_.” She smiled and pretended as though she wasn’t looking him over. “You were never this forward before. I believe you nearly caught heat stroke at one point because you refused to remove your tunic in front of me.”

“Yes— _well_ ,” eyeing her, he shook his head. “My sense of modesty seems to have gone out the window, hasn’t it?”

“I can still feel your back on mine sometimes.” Iza drew her bottom lip between her teeth. “Looking back on it, it is no wonder your _meditation lesson_ had such an effect on me. You were so sticky and heavy and _warm_. And you _flirted_ with me.”

“I… did not flirt.”

“ _You **did**!_” Iza laughed, pointing. “You did that silly thing where you put your head on my shoulder and you gave me such a look. You kept giving me little nudges when I wouldn’t give in to you. _You flirted_.”

“As if you did not flirt with me?” Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow and watched the way she colored and attempted to keep her lips from twisting into a smile. Pursing his mouth, he propped his fingers on his hips and snorted. “ _Always_ flirting with me, I might add. When you were not angry with me, you would speak so soft and sweetly to me. And the way you smiled for me? You did not smile that way for Quin. Even when he made you laugh—you did not smile that way, my girl.”

“You be quiet,” Iza had to cover her mouth with the back of her hand, turning her gaze elsewhere. When she had managed to gather herself somewhat, she looked back at him and huffed quietly. “You always flirted when we would have our combat sessions. That _look_ in your eye—I know that look now. That was not _aggressiveness_ from a fight. You were ready to have me. You _wanted_ to have me. You _could_ have had me much sooner than this, Obi-Wan.”

“I knew that. But it was different then, Iza. We both know that. We’ve discussed this.”

“What about when Quin would go offworld? You were always so… _different_. You would let me be close to you and you never fussed.”

“Quinlan, admittedly, was responsible for a lot of my impulse control. Which is _hilarious_ , all things considered.” Letting out a quiet laugh, he sighed and lifted a hand to wave her over. When she was close enough, he gently snatched her by the front of her under-tunic and pulled her against him. Leaning down, he planted a kiss between her eyes and smiled faintly. “My motives were just as selfish as they were selfless, darling. I gave in to you to make you happy and to make myself happy. Resisting was what could have ruined everything for us, I think.”

“I think we became afraid of losing one another. After what happened to you and my stupidity in the river, we got scared.” Iza dropped her gaze to his chest and lightly traced her fingers through the dark bit of hair there. “You were so strange that day. I know you say your head was not right, but I wonder…”

“Wonder what, darling?” He watched her, smiling warmly when she propped her chin against his shoulder and smoothed her hands down his sides.

“You would not let go of me. You _refused_. You told me to _be safe_. I wonder if somehow you knew, but could not warn me?”

It would make sense. Obi-Wan still could not make a lot of sense of what had happened that day. He chalked it up to the near-brush with death that his head had done such crazy things. But he could remember being absolutely terrified of letting her go. He hadn’t wanted her to hide from him—she’d _promised_ not to do that—but he had been more worried that she’d actually physically run from him than anything. Maybe she was right. Maybe the Force had tried to warn him in some way but he’d been too messed up to comprehend it. Just one more thing to add to the list of reasons not to touch whiskey ever again.

“You slept with me.”

“I _beg your pardon?_ ” Obi-Wan snapped back to attention and stared at her. Iza’s face lit up in amusement and she pressed it against his shoulder to stifle the laugh that followed.

“ _Not like that!_ ” She still had not told him about that dream. Perhaps she should? “I meant you spent the night in my _bed_. Several times.”

“You were having nightmares, Iza,” still looking a bit shaken, Obi-Wan gave her hip a gentle squeeze. “You would beg me not to leave. What could I do?”

“You kissed me.”

Well, so much for thinking he’d never be caught.

“I did.” Shrugging his free shoulder, he cast a soft smile at her. “You needed comfort. I did not know how else to provide it. If you have not already figured it out, I am not so good at _verbal_ comfort, my darling. I prefer to let my actions speak for me.”

“I think you do well enough.”

“I appreciate that, my girl.”

Falling silent, the two gazed at one another for a while, seemingly content to just stand there and listen to the sounds of nature around them. Every so often, they’d trade little kisses or touches that would have one of them squirming if a fingertip passed over a particularly ticklish spot. When enough time had passed, Iza was the one to sigh and reluctantly pull away.

“I should start putting things away.”

“ _We_ should start putting things away.” Obi-Wan gave her a look when she glanced up at him, lightly giving the end of her braid a tug. “And then I think we should have a combat session. I have yet to see what Quinlan has taught you.”

“You’re _joking?_ ”

“No, my dear, I am not.” Stepping away to grab one of the crates, Obi-Wan grinned wide. “You want me to continue giving you my guidance, don’t you?”

“I did not think you would attempt to do it so soon.” She followed after him, grabbing the second crate. “Can we not just enjoy ourselves the first night?”

“What would you like to do? More celebrating?”

“I was curious as to what it would be like to do it beneath the stars, yes.” Iza nodded, beaming when he turned to look at her. When he simply stood there and studied her, she pouted and gave the tiniest tilt of her head, waiting for the usual growling huff of breath that signaled him yielding to her.

“You are a terrible girl,” setting the crate down, he moved to take the one she held, leaning over it to steal a rough kiss. “You are terrible and I love you.”

“And I love _you_ , my darling Obi-Wan.”


	13. Epilogue

Quinlan had expected to go to Ragoon VI much sooner than this. While he had kept communication with Obi-Wan and Iza, he had not had a chance to leave post. The council had piled on assignments in between interrogations as to where the two had disappeared to. Their starship had been found at a shipyard on Nal Hutta about five months ago, stripped clean of anything useable. The Rodian that ran the place seemed to have no recollection of how he’d even acquired the bird. _Convenient_. There’d been no reports of Jedi on the planet at all. It was as though they’d simply vanished. As far as anyone from the Temple was concerned, _they had_. Quinlan had waited until he was sure the dust had settled before he’d made his trip with Aayla at his side simply because she’d insisted that she wanted to visit her friend. He’d taken the long way around, too. There was no sense in possibly leading anyone to their location. The village did not appear to have changed much since he’d last been here, and the trek down the mountain was just as irritating as ever. Finding the self-built home on the edge of the long stretch of field was easy, too.

“This is so simple looking,” Aayla said quietly as she trudged alongside her master, taking in the sight of the cabin-like home. “It is not what I expected.”

“You should have seen how Iza was living when we first found her here,” Quinlan snickered, glancing over. “There’s a cave just down that trail there that she was holed up in. We spent about three and a half months at that place.”

“ _You?_ ” Aayla shot him a look of disbelief.

“You know me better than that, Aayla. I don’t mind living at the Temple on occasion but this is more my style.” As they approached the door and he raised his hand to knock, Quinlan was startled when it opened before he got the chance. Obi-Wan stood on the other side, smile parked on his lips and a sort of genuine happiness in his eyes that Quinlan hadn’t seen in years. “Obi,”

“Quin,” he looked like he might just offer his hand in greeting, but the other man allowed himself to be pulled into a hug that made him grunt and then laugh. Patting his friend between the shoulders, he pulled back and turned to greet Aayla with a nod. “Hello Aayla. You’re looking well.”

“As are you, Master Kenobi,”

“Please—just Obi-Wan.”

“ _Darling?_ ”

The _stupidest_ look crossed Obi-Wan’s face as Iza’s voice rang out behind him and Quinlan almost cackled. Oh—this one had been domesticated for sure. Judging by the way his whole face had lit up and the smile on his lips had nearly split his head in half, Obi-Wan Kenobi had certainly settled into his new life _nicely_.

“We have guests, my dear,” waving them inside, Obi-Wan stepped out of the way to let Quinlan and Aayla in, shutting the door behind them. The inside of the cabin was just about as simple as the outside. There were very few electronics and what little they _did_ have were quite outdated. The place was decorated with simple furniture and smelled _amazing_. Iza must’ve been cooking.

“Quin!”

Quinlan damn near dropped to the floor when the petite woman came rushing in from the next room sporting a small, but tightly rounded belly. As soon as she brought her arms up to hug him, he could feel the second life signature clear as day and knew this was not just a little bit of _weight gain_. Pulling back to look at her, he could not keep from staring before looking back up at Obi-Wan, who grinned like an absolute menace.

“You didn’t tell me?!” Gesturing at Iza, who’d moved on to greet Aayla, Quinlan got a shrug in return from the other man.

“She said it needed to be a surprise. Probably so she could see that stupid face you just made.”

“How far along?” Aayla asked curiously, tilting her head to get a better look.

“Six months.” Iza looked damn proud of herself, too. “We already have a name picked out, too.”

“Ah— _you_ have a name picked out.” Obi-Wan muttered, giving her a look. “I still think we should wait until we know what we’re having.”

“We can still give the baby the same name regardless of gender, Obi-Wan,”

“Mm,” he moved to head into the kitchen area to open the refrigerator and collect the juice pitcher. “Are you going to skirt around it or tell them?”

“I like _Quinlan_ for a boy.” Iza said it nonchalantly, as though she’d made up her damn mind and no one was going to change it. “Quinn if it’s a girl.”

Quinlan stared at her, and then looked to Obi-Wan.

“You would allow this?” He laughed, pointing. “Or is this one of those things where you would rather not argue with her?”

“If you want to argue with her, please be my guest,” bringing over two glasses, he offered one to Quin and one to Aayla, folding his arms over his chest once his hands had been freed. “She _insists_.”

“ _Why?_ ”

“Why not?” Putting a hand on her belly, Iza looked almost offended. “I would much rather name my baby after _you_ than pick some name from a hat that I do not even like. I cannot imagine yelling for a child named _Ben_ like he suggested.”

“There is nothing wrong with that name.” Obi-Wan muttered, making a face.

“There is nothing wrong with the name _Quinlan_.”

“Did you ever get the package I put away for you, little one?” Quinlan did not want to sit around and watch these two bicker. As entertaining as it was, it was a _little_ uncomfortable to watch. Especially when it was his name they were arguing over.

“Package? Oh! Yes, I did.” Iza smiled and gestured to a shelf nearby that held a small case. Inside of it, Obi-Wan’s Heart of Fire rested beside the blue stone he’d given her when she was a youngling. “It’s much safer here. We both agreed it’s better than carrying it around.”

“I would have to agree,” chuckling, Quinlan moved closer to study both stones, humming quietly. “Is this the meditation stone you gifted her, Obi?”

“You remember that?” Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow.

“I remember that she was very proud of it, yes.” The Kiffar grinned and shot Iza a look. “I had to fish it out of the garden pond once. She stopped carrying it around after that.”

“And _you_ keep asking me why I want to use his name,” giving Obi-Wan a pointed look, Iza stuck her tongue out and brushed past him to head into the kitchen. Breathing a hard sigh, the older man eyed her back as she went and shook his head.

“ _I swear to the Force, Iza_ ,”

“Do not swear, darling. It’s indecent.”

The look that crossed Obi-Wan’s face was so blatantly bewildered that it made Quinlan laugh outright and slap his knee.

“Oh— _Obi_ , I told you to be careful.” He cackled, watching his friend turn a murderous gaze in his direction. “Do not look at me like that. It is not my fault you picked a woman who can keep up with your cheek.”

“She’s only gotten worse since she’s become pregnant.” Obi-Wan mumbled, watching the little woman in the kitchen as she stood in front of the stove stirring something.

“Have you gone to a doctor?” Aayla asked curiously, coming further into the room. “I understand the two of you wish to remain hidden, but it is quite important that she has good medical care.”

“He has _insisted_ on an offworld physician, yes.” Iza looked a little irritated by this. “Our medical droid was not as up to speed as I had hoped it would be.”

“Iza, it was programmed to take care of wounds consistent with those found on a battlefield. It would not have made a good obstetrician.”

“This will be done in twenty minutes,” smiling sweetly, Iza gestured to the pot on the stove and held the spoon out to Obi-Wan. “Please make sure it does not burn. Aayla, would you like to take a walk?”

“ _Darling_ ,” Obi-Wan reached to gingerly take hold of her arm. “Please do not get upset with me.”

“Who is upset?” She looked up at him and shrugged a shoulder. “I simply would like to take a walk with my friend.”

“I _know_ you, remember?”

“And I know _you_.”

The two seemed to stare each other down in complete silence for another few minutes before they leaned in to share a kiss and a secret smile. Giving her chin a pinch, Obi-Wan shook his head at her and silently gestured for her to go ahead and take her walk.

“Twenty minutes,” Iza pointed at the pot.

“I will not let it burn, darling.”

Satisfied, Iza waved for Aayla to follow her and both women made their way out of the cabin. When he was sure they were far enough away, Quinlan turned to look over at his friend and raised an eyebrow.

“She still wears her braid,” his words pulled Obi-Wan’s attention and earned him a confused look. A moment passed and the other man nodded slowly.

“She decided to continue wearing it since I have not finished teaching her.” Going into the kitchen so he could stir the contents of the pot on the stove, Obi-Wan gave a thoughtful hum and then laughed. “She does not refer to me as _master_ , if that is what is going through that filth ridden brain of yours.”

“Actually, I’m just surprised to find the two of you have settled this quickly. I did not expect to come here and find her pregnant.”

“She knew it would happen,” Obi-Wan shrugged and turned a hand up, leaning against the counter. “When I was on my assignment to Mandalore, she had a vision of a baby and a river. She said it was part of the reason she did not sleep for so long. I think she feared she was pregnant then.”

“And you are prepared for this?”

“Absolutely not.” Laughing, Obi-Wan rubbed his hand over his face and tugged the ends of his beard. He’d let it grow back in a bit thicker than before, though he still kept it reasonably neat. There was no reason to look like a wild beast just because he lived out in the woods. “I’m terrified of this, Quinlan. I know she is too, but she plays it off so coolly that I cannot bring myself to show any sort of doubt. I do not know what to do with a _child_. They do not teach this at the academy.”

“You’re a smart man, Obi. You will figure this out.” Quinlan eyed the other man for a moment. “And you can always ask for help. I do not know a _ton_ about babies, but I know some people who do.”

“I cannot ask for help from them. Iza has already stated she wants nothing to do with the Jedi. If the baby turns out to be sensitive and they come sniffing around, we have both agreed to send them away.”

“Do you think that is what would be best for the child?”

“We are perfectly capable of giving the proper teachings, Quin,” Obi-Wan lifted the lid to stir the pot again, sighing. “You cannot pull those guilt tactics on me. I have seen them in action far too many times to count.”

“I would never guilt you into giving anything up. You know that.”

A look was exchanged and Obi-Wan scoffed quietly. He wanted to say something about how he’d nearly been guilted into letting Iza go during the last week at the camp, but he wouldn’t. He was sure Quinlan remembered that anyway. Jerking when a hand lightly clapped him between the shoulders, he looked up and found the other man giving him a gentle smile.

“I am glad to find you in good health, my friend. You and the little one.” A firm squeeze was given to Obi-Wan’s shoulder. “You will make a fine father, I think.”

“Thank you.”

“You really must insist on naming that child something other than Quinlan,” the Kiffar grinned and laughed. “She is setting it up for a lifetime of wild behavior that the two of you will not be able to keep up with.”

“I will do my best, but as you can see—arguing with her is near impossible.” Shaking his head, Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. “I suppose as long as I do not suggest _Ben_ again, I might stand a fighting chance.”

“Where did you even get that name, Obi?”

“You don’t remember? It was my cover name for our first covert assignment together.”

“I do not remember a _lot_ of that mission, Obi.” Quinlan gave a sheepish sort of look. “That was a wilder time in my life.”

“Ah, _yes_.” The former Jedi huffed out a laugh and dropped his head for a moment. “I am surprised I remember as much of that assignment as I do, myself.”

“Have you tried the wizard caps yet like I suggested?”

“Actually…”

“ _You did._ ”

“We are pretty sure that was when the child was conceived. Not that you were ever curious about that.” Chuckling, Obi-Wan waved his hand. “They were not so bad, but it is not something I would do again.”

“What made you try them?” Quin was curious to know how Iza had talked him into it, if she’d done so at all.

“There’s a Runi technique—”

“ _Nope_ ,” putting his hands up, Quinlan decided that he suddenly did not care. “I do not want to hear any more about your Mandalorian meditation sithspit.”

“You are the one who asked.” Obi-Wan shrugged, smirking.

“I would ask if you enjoyed them but I also do not wish to know the answer to that any longer.”

“They were… interesting. Again, not something I would try twice. I’m surprised Iza was willing to do them a second time.”

“I feel as though that girl would do anything for you, Obi.” Quinlan gestured to the pot that needed stirring and watched as his friend stuck the spoon in and slowly mixed the contents.

“She would. It frightens me at times.” Making a face, Obi-Wan checked the time and flipped the stove off. “She was very close to staying in the Order simply because she believed that it would be what I wanted.”

“Would it have been?”

“I do not know anymore.” Shrugging, he put the lid on the pot and set the spoon down, gesturing for Quinlan to sit. “You do not have to stand, my friend.”

“I have been sitting for hours, Obi. I am fine.”

“She will insist when she serves up supper. I do hope you haven’t lost your taste for fish.” Grinning, Obi-Wan reached out and patted the other man on the shoulder. Quinlan tried not to pull a face.

“I will eat it to be polite. If I remember correctly, it was not _terrible_. But one can only consume so much fish before they require other means of sustenance.”

“Which is why we go offworld twice a month for other provisions. She still refuses to kill anything around here.”

“She is going to need something other than fish for that baby.”

“I _do_ eat more than fish for the sake of the baby.” Iza’s mildly irritated tone drew the attention of the two men, but only Obi-Wan gave an exasperated look when he saw she’d _apparently_ dipped herself in the river.

“What have we talked about, darling?” He gestured to her clothes and raised an eyebrow.

“Aayla was with me!” Pointing over her shoulder, Iza pouted. “It has been so long since you let me swim, Obi-Wan. It will not hurt the baby. You have already taken my quarterstaffs and lightsabers. You cannot take the river from me, too.”

“I made sure she stayed near the bank, Obi-Wan,” Aayla piped, putting a hand on Iza’s shoulder to calm her. “I did not let her out into the current.”

Working his jaw, the older man ran his fingers through his hair and heaved a sigh.

“ _Very well_.” He still didn’t like the idea of Iza being in the water without him. It made him nervous in a way he couldn’t explain.

“My love, please do not be upset.”

“I am not upset, Iza,” it took him a minute before he could look at her directly. “I would just prefer it if you did not go against my wishes.”

She wanted to insist that it was hot out and she’d just wanted to cool down. She hadn’t meant to do anything that would upset him. But Iza only dropped her gaze and nodded, trying not to pout too much.

“I’m sorry.”

She heard him tut and let out a sigh before he was crossing the room to wind his arms around her shoulders and set his chin atop her head. The other two in the cabin stayed quiet and looked elsewhere to give them a sense of privacy. Dropping a kiss to her forehead, Obi-Wan lowered a hand to the swell of her belly and smiled lightly.

“We will go swimming later, my dear. For now, you should get changed into something dry and we’ll sit down and have supper. Sound good?”

Iza nodded, tilting her head up to kiss him.

“Sounds perfect.”

~*~*~*~

“This water is freezing.” Obi-Wan muttered as he waded deeper into the river behind Iza. “Darling, not so far.”

“This is a pool, my love,” she gestured and let out a quiet laugh. “We are perfectly safe here. As long as we do not go beyond those rocks, the current is far too gentle to do more than move our hair.”

“It is still freezing.” Shaking his head when he caught up with her, the older man slipped his arms around her and pulled her back against him. “I should have insisted on waiting until daylight.”

“We have the lantern,” gesturing to where they’d hung one of the solar lamps in a tree, Iza kissed his jaw. “You fuss so much these days.”

“I cannot help it.” Smoothing his palms over her belly, Obi-Wan sighed and rested his chin on her shoulder. “You are still such a careless girl sometimes. I worry over every little thing you do.”

“I am not _that_ careless, Obi-Wan.”

“Darling, you tripped coming out of our bedroom. _On nothing_. I thank the stars that Quinlan was there to keep you from crashing into anything.”

“That is not carelessness, darling. That is my center of gravity being off because I am with your child.” Snorting, Iza nestled back against him and smirked. “The larger I get, the worse it will get.”

Letting out a miserable groan behind her, Obi-Wan buried his face in her neck.

“Do not tell me these things. I will put you in a bubble.”

“ _Obi-Wan_.”

“Perhaps I will restrain you to the bed,” he gave her shoulder a quick nip and grinned to himself. “Then I can at least keep an eye on you properly.”

“You are _vulgar_.” Shaking her head, Iza blew out a heavy breath. “We have guests. You cannot be saying things like this to me.”

“We have an entire starship we can use, darling.” Kissing up the side of her neck, he bit the shell of her ear and snickered when she whined at him. “You do not fool me with your false attempts at resistance. You have woken me up several times in the middle of the night this week to _play_.”

“I cannot help it,” making a face, the brunette tilted her head for him and grumbled lightly. “My body has decided that this is what it wants.”

“Your body also decided that it wanted to start eating tiingilar. You burned my entire tongue kissing me after eating that mess.”

“ _You_ were the one who procured the recipe for me.” Reaching up, she gave the ends of his beard a light tug. “Once again—I cannot help what my body wants.”

“And what does it want now, hm?” Tilting his head to look at her, Obi-Wan smiled and let his hands move to her hips, stroking them slowly with his thumbs.

“I am content to stay and swim for now.” She stuck her tongue out at him in defiance. “I was promised this and I will have it. You may have what you want when we are done.”

“I suppose that is a fair trade,” humming, he brushed his lips against her cheek, gazing at her when he’d pulled back.

“What? What is that look for?” Iza raised an eyebrow, unsure if she ought to be unnerved by how dreamy eyed he’d suddenly gone. When he leaned in and pressed a deep, slow kiss to her lips, she relaxed some and sank back further into his chest.

“I do so love you, my darling girl,” he murmured in between kisses, lightly nuzzling his nose across hers. Iza half grinned against his lips, pressing closer and sighing softly in contentment.

“And I love you, my Obi-Wan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this one is a bit of a short fic, but it was cute and I had to get it out after so much damn angst.  
> I will definitely be writing more Obi-Wan/Iza stuff in the future so keep eyes out for that.  
> Thank you to all who have left kudos and comments. I love y'all <3


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